
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 










































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The Mail Robber 


Or, THE CLEVER CAPTURE OF A 

y DISHONEST POSTAL CLERK 

♦ 

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ILLUSTRATED 


BY 


James E. Stewart 


CHIEF INSPECTOR OF THE POST-OFFICE DEPARTMENT 




CHICAGO 

LAIRD.& LEET, Publishers 

# 


5 INKER10N DETECTIVE SERIES. Issued Monthly. By Subscription $3.00 per anrum. Vol. 34. Dec., 1889. 
Entered at Chicago Post Office as second-class matter. 












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M. E. Holmes 
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M. E. Holmes 
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JAMES E. STEWART, 

Post-Office Inspector. 



THE 


MAIL ROBBER 

OR 


THE CLEVER CAPTURE OF A DISHONEST 
POSTAL CLERK. 

i/ 

From the Diary of Chief Inspector James E. Stewart, of 
the Postoffice Department. ' 




4 


Copyrighted 1889 
By LAIRD & LEE 


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- :;r-- * •;• 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP. PAGE 

I.—Belle of Green River ....*. 7 

II.—How it Came About... 14 

III—The Duel... 24 

IV.—What Followed...... 31 

V—The Letter. 37 

VI.—An Easy Victim.. ... 43 

VII_The Mail Robber. 52 

VIII—A Clue. 54 

IX.—The Temptation ... 57 

X.—Letter for Alice Hutchings. 63 

XI.—Effort to Change the Money. 72 

XII.—How the Money Was Changed. 75 

XIII—The Meeting. 79 

XIV.—The Arrest of Harmon. 87 

XV.—Harmon Confesses _ .... 90 

XVI—The Letter Explained.. . 93 

XVII—A Desperate Battle.,. 98 

XVIII—Captured. 102 

XIX—The News Reaches Green River. 105 

XX.—A Stormy Interview...... 1*3 

XXI—A Horrible End. 121 

XXII.—The Events of a Year. 128 

XXIII.—A Wife’s Stratagem. *3 2 

XXIV—The Pursuit, and How it Ended. 137 


























The “Popular” Series. 


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M. E. Holmes 
M. E. Holmes 
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NANA........By Emile Zola 

LA TERRE...By Emile Zola 

L’ASSOMMOIR.By Emile Zola 

NANA’S DAUGHTER; A Reply to ‘Nana" .By Emile Zola 

THE DREAM.....By Emile Zola 

POT BOUILLE (Piping Hot).By Emile Zola 

THE LADIES’ PARADISE..By Emile Zola 

G. A. R.; or, How She Married His Double .By Edward R. Roe 

DR. CALDWELL; r, The Trai of the Serpent.By Edward R. Roe 

MAY AND JUNE. By Edward R. Roe 

FROM THE BEATEN PATH.By Edward R. Roe 

..• ••■.By I’.dward R. Roe 

A SECRET.By j^,va Catharine Clapp 

A WOMAN’S LOVE..By Mrs. 

HER FAT. L SIN .••••••••••• ....... By Mrs. 

THE TRAGEDY OF REDMOUNT..By ,Irs. m! 

THE WIFE’S SECRET...By Mrs M „. __ 

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A HEARTLES > WOMAN. By M s M E Holmes 

A DEST CRATE WOMAN. By Mrs. M E Hollis 

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AN ACTOR’S WIFE . .By Georg? Moore 

AGAIN ST FATE ....By M rs M L Raynf 

A GOLDEN HEART. ...By Be tha M. cIay 

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MARKED FOR LIFE; or, The Gambler’s Fate ...By A F Pinkerton 

DYKE DARREL, the Railroad Detective . By A. F. Pinkerton 

THE GREAT TRUNK TRAGEDY; or, The St. Louis Maxwell- riNKERTON 
P re Her Ccise ••••#«*»**.,•••#•#•» • Pu Morris P tt m w t m r 

JOSEPH PRICKETT, The Scotland Yard Detecdve’V.V.By Inspector Murray 


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THE MAIL ROBBER 


CHAPTER I. 


THE BELLE OF GREEN RIVER. 

In 1877, Green River, Wyoming Territory, was 
not a very large or thriving town. Its population 
was as shifting as the sands upon the seashore, and 
about as reliable. Gamblers, murderers, cowboys, 
Indians, etc., crowded the numerous saloons (for, 
as the houses were few and the places of liquid 
refreshment were in the majority, they can be safely 
termed numerous), and scarcely a week passed but 
what some one, either white, black or red, took 
passage on the boat which is supposed to ferry lost 
souls across the River Styx, guided by the hand of 
Charon, to the great unknown world beyond. 

To speak plainly, murders were not uncommon. 
A game of poker, a few hot words, then the flash 
of a bowie, or the crack of a revolver, and all was 
over, until, probably, the next big game. Strange 
that human beings should sacrifice life, the most 
precious of treasures, for a few paltry dollars; yet 
it is so. Men sacrifice life, good name, family, 
to the passion; women, virtue, honor, the beauty 
which God has given them to make the world 



8 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


bright, to the same insatiate tyrant — passion for 
gold! 

Green River is upon the line of the Union Pacific 
Railroad, being the end of the division between 
Laramie City and that point, consequently, several 
railroad men, freighters, postal clerks, etc., made 
the town their home during their enforced stay, 
and, as railroad men are, with few exceptions, good- 
hearted, careless, eager for sport, many of their 
dollars fell into the hands and pockets of the saloon¬ 
keepers and gamblers. Among these employes of 
the company and the government was one John J. 
Moore, familiarly known as Johnnie, a postal clerk, 
running from Laramie City to Green River, and 
having charge of all mail matter between those 
points. 

Moore was a young man, not over thirty. Of his 
residence or family, little was known. Although a 
" good fellow ” in all that the term implies, spend¬ 
ing his money freely and making hosts of friends, 
still, upon the subject of his early life, of his fam¬ 
ily, he kept a close mouth, and no one knew much 
about u Johnnie ” Moore. 

To tell the truth, his companions did not bother 
themselves much about the matter ; all they wanted 
to know was when Moore had plenty of money, so 
they could sponge upon him, and help him dispose 
of it, and the saloonkeepers were also satisfied 
with the man’s wages, without bothering them¬ 
selves to pry into his affairs. 

It is ever so with the world. Money commands 
respect and wins friends. No matter where the 


THE BELLE OF GREEN RIVER 


9 


money comes from or who the man is, if he only 
has it, that is all the cringing mass of humanity 
wants. If he has it not, then it is wise to search 
into the unfortunate individual’s character, to see 
why he is poor, why he has no money, which is a 
greater crime in the eyes of some people than any¬ 
thing else. 

A wealthy robber is more esteemed than a poor 
but honest laborer. It is a crime to be poor — so 
the world seems to think. Perhaps they do not 
say so, but a wise man once wrote, “ Actions speak 
louder than words,” and we can judge from appear¬ 
ances, which, although sometimes deceitful, still 
tell the truth often. 

Moore was well liked in Green River. A man 
who is profligate with his money seldom, I might 
say never, has any difficulty in finding friends, and 
the postal clerk was one of that kind. He had 
many acquaintances in the little town whom he vis¬ 
ited often, and among the rest was one John 
Hutchings, whose only daughter, a girl of seven¬ 
teen, seemed to possess sufficient magnetic power 
to attract many of the young men, and some of 
the older ones, of Green River. 

Moore professed to visit the house only for the 
purpose of having a sociable smoke and a chat 
with the old man; but some who seemed to know 
more than others, there are such people, you know, 
said, with a wink, that “ Moore went to the house 
for a good deal more than a talk with old John,” 
and perhaps those knowing ones spoke truly; but, 
if so, Moore never gave any indication of the fact. 


10 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


for he had never spoken a word of love to the girl, 
and, in fact, had never treated her other than a 
child. 

A beautiful girl was Alice Hutchings. Reared in 
the country, where fresh air and sunshine bring 
with it health and happiness, she had never been 
obliged to have recourse to the artificial complex¬ 
ions which are boxed up and dispensed over the 
counters of the druggist at so much per box. Her 
skin was as soft as velvet, pink and white perfectly 
blended by the hand of the great artist—Nature; 
her eyes, soft and gentle, were full of life, and the 
slumbering passion that lives in the hearts of all; 
and there was not one of her many admirers but 
who thought her the most beautiful creature ever 
born to either bless or curse mankind. 

For a woman has it in her power to do either — 
a dangerous power to intrust into the keeping of 
the weaker vessel; but the Ruler of all knows best. 

Old John Hutchings was one of the original set¬ 
tlers. He could sit and talk for hours about the 
days when railroads were unknown, and Indians 
were foes to be dreaded. He would often remark 
to Moore, as they sat before the wide, open fire¬ 
place upon the occasion of one of his numerous 
visits: 

“ You fellers ride along in your keers an’ throw 
out yer mail bags. In the old days all our mail was 
kerried by the pony express rider; an’ I tell ye 
what, betwixt the Injuns an’ the outlaws, a feller 
was playin’ in purty good luck to git any letters at 
all ” 


THE BELLE OF GREEN RIVER 


II 


Moore would invariably smile, and remark that 
times had changed considerably, and then they 
would smoke and chat about other matters until the 
hour when the postal clerk would have to return to 
his lodgings to sleep. 

Old John was a good father. He loved his only 
daughter almost to idolatry. His wife had 
departed this life some five years before the open¬ 
ing of our story, leaving the girl (then a child of 
twelve) to her husband’s care. The old man loved 
her because she resembled the dear one, and took 
delight in gratifying her every whim and childish 
wish. 

But, like many good men, John Hutchings had 
his failings, his weaknesses. The greatest of these 
was his love for strong drink. Next to the girl, 
his heart went out to the enslaving cup, and he was 
never without a gallon of bourbon in the house. 
He had upon several occasions taken the pledge, 
only to break it. A temperance revivalist had 
been holding forth in Green River for several weeks, 
and had induced nearly every one of the younger 
men to sign the pledge. People are very much 
like a flock of sheep, the many will follow the 
example of the few who lead; and, when several of 
the wealthy men put down their names to the little 
document, promising, with the help of God, never 
to drink again, over one-half of the town did the 
same, old John among the rest. 

As he scrawled his autograph, holding the pen 
as if he was afraid it would escape from him, he 
said: “ I’ve been an all-fired hard drinker for a 


12 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


good many years; but that settles it. I ain’t a 
goin’ to drink any more/’ and he said it in a 
determined manner, with a resolute shake of the 
head and compression of the lips. Then the sisters 
joined with the brethren in singing “ The Ninety 
and Nine ” and other inspiring Gospel songs, and 
the revivalist shook the old man’s hand vigorously. 

“ Stick to it, brother,” he whispered. “ Pray to 
God to help you and keep you from falling by the 
wayside.” 

The saloon-keepers did not do much business for 
a few weeks; but the effects of the excitement 
passed off, and soon the “ lost lambs found ” were 
lost worse than ever. 

Old John held out as long as he could, but the 
old longing, the unquenchable thirst came upon 
him with greater force than ever; and so, one night, 
he took his gallon jug, and, sneaking out the back 
way, so that Alice would not see him, he hurried 
to the saloon he had patronized before his miracu¬ 
lous conversion. 

The “ gang ” sent up a shout that caused the bot¬ 
tles and glasses to rattle upon the bar as the old man 
entered. 

“ You’re the last one, John,” they roared, “ We 
thought you’d drop in soon.” 

" I always keep likker in the house fer a medi¬ 
cine,” muttered John, turning red. 

“ An’ yer alius sick, John,” quietly remarked 
Steve Johnson, an old-timer. 

Then the boys roared again, and the upshot of it 
all was, that old John was loaded up to the neck 


THE BELLE OF GREEN RIVER 


13 


before he left the place, and literally fell by the 
wayside before he reached home. 

He was found in the early morning by one of the 
most devout “ sisters of the church,” snoring like 
a hog, in the ditch, the gallon jug clasped tightly 
in his arms. 

“ Why, old Hutchings is drunk again,” she mut¬ 
tered, in holy horror, and then turned up her nose 
as if the atmosphere was unpleasant, and left him. 

The old man never signed the pledge again. 

“ ’Taint no use,” he said; “ I hev got a hankerin’ 
for likker, an’ I must have it.” 

And he drank a great deal more than ever, as if 
to make up for the lost time. He squandered more 
money than he could well afford. 

Like many others, he thought he could gamble, 
and that no man could beat him at poker; but old 
John was as a child in the hands of the sleek “ short 
card ” players, and hundreds of dollars passed from 
his hands into the greedy ones of those who robbed 
him. 

A drunken man cannot play cards! Remember 
that, same one of you who may chance to read this 
story. It may save you money in the future. 

Finally matters came to such a pass that the old 
man was obliged to mortgage his little house and 
the few acres that surrounded it. Alice wept and 
cried when she found this had been done, but her 
tears did not improve matters much; in fact, they 
did a great deal of harm, as the reader will find 
later on. But a woman must cry if things do not 


14 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


go along smoothly, and Alice Hutchings was a 
woman in spite of her seventeen years. 

So matters stood in May, 1877, at which time 
our story opens. The property was mortgaged for 
$5,ooo. 

Old John had not told young Moore of the fact, 
and no one save the holder of the mortgage knew 
anything at all about it. The old man kept the 
story of his pecuniary embarrassment to himself, 
for he had hopes that some one of the girl’s many 
admirers would pluck up courage enough to ask 
her hand in marriage; and, as there were several men 
of wealth among them, he knew that one of them 
could be induced to help him out after he was 
safely married to the girl, so he kept it from them 
all. 

But the best laid plans sometimes, aye, often, 
are defeated. 

“ Man proposes,” and so it proved with John 
Hutchings. He would have shown his better 
judgment if he had kept the matter from his 
daughter. It has often been said that women can¬ 
not keep a secret. Perhaps there may be some 
exceptions, but my experience has taught me that 
such is the rule. Women like to talk, and Alice 
Hutchings defeated her father by exercising this 
truly womanly weakness. 

CHAPTER II. 

HOW IT CAME ABOUT. 

John Moore was not a bad man, neither was he 
what might strictly be termed a good man. 



HOW IT CAME ABOUT 


15 


He was in the eyes of church-goers a sinner. All 
people are wicked who do not attend church regu¬ 
larly, in the estimation of narrow-minded sectarians; 
so the opinions of such as these does not amount to 
much. Moore was warm hearted, liberal with his 
money, would go out of his way to help a friend, 
and was really not at all a very wicked man. 

But he was a man, every inch of him, and was 
possessed to a large degree with the many passions 
which dwell in the hearts of mankind at large. 

His visits to the house of old Hutchings were not 
particularly for the purpose of talking and smoking 
with the old man. The knowing ones were right for 
once at least when they had said as much; the 
pretty daughter and her bewitching eyes drew him 
often to the domicile of the drunkard. And again, 
although he seldom spoke to the girl in her father’s 
presence, the interviews between the two were 
many—too many, in fact, for the girl, for she was 
but mortal, and, like many others, could not with¬ 
stand the eloquent pleadings of Moore’s musical 
voice. She fell. The man gained that for which 
he had been seeking. But no one knew of this — 
not even the father. He would have denied such a 
thing if it had been told him, for he felt sure his 
child would not deceive him, and, besides, he knew 
(or at least he thought so) that Alice retired early, 
and was fast asleep an hour before Moore left his 
house. 

But there are many ways by which a clever young 
girl can deceive even the most watchful parent, and 
many nights when old John felt assured that Alice 



16 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


was soundly sleeping in her little room, she was 
exchanging vows of love with Moore, beneath the 
shade of the trees. She met her lover as usual 
upon the night that her father had informed her 
that the house and lands were mortgaged. Her 
eyes were red from the effects of her weeping, 
and Moore noticed it. 

“ What has happened to cause your tears? ” he 
whispered, as they stood side by side. 

“ Something terrible,” she answered, bursting 
into a torrent of tears. 

He soothed her. 

“ Tell me,” he whispered; “ lay your head upon 
my breast, and tell me all.” 

Her father had warned her not to divulge the 
secret to any one, but she loved Moore, and he 
seemed so anxious to soothe her, wanted to help 
her so much, she forgot her fathers words. She 
told him all. 

He looked grave. 

This is truly a sad affair,” he said; “ who holds 
this mortgage? ” 

She told him. The man was one of the saloon¬ 
keepers of Green River. 

He made no reply for some time. Finally he 
said, slowly, “ This is, indeed, a circumstance to be 
regretted. This man is a hard-hearted, merciless 
wretch, and will not show your father an atom of 
pity. I am afraid he will be a pauper if he can¬ 
not manage, in some way, to free himself.” 

“ I felt the same as you,” she sobbed. “ I know 
how hard-hearted this man is. I felt so much more 


HOW IT CAME ABOUT 17 

distressed from the fact of him holding the mort¬ 
gage. ” 

He stood silent, thinking deeply, and his thoughts 
were of the girl and the trouble which hovered over 
her like a black cloud. 

“ I once thought this man wanted me for his 
wife,” she continued. 

He stopped her with a gesture. “ By God! I 
understand it all now,” he cried, quickly, passion¬ 
ately. 

“ What? ” she gasped. 

“ This man’s action. I remember, now, that he 
formerly used to visit your house, but has ceased to 
do so during the past six months.” 

“ Yes,” she murmured. 

“ Did he ever speak of love to you? ” 

“ Several times. I never encouraged him ; I did 
not like him.” 

“ I can see through it all,” he muttered. Then, 
quickly, he said : “ He wanted you for his wife. 
He saw that you had no feeling of love for him, 
and he set about paving a way that would lead you 
to him. Your father has squandered his money 
over his bar and gaming tables, and has even mort¬ 
gaged his property to this greedy, insatiate villain. 
Mark my words, Alice ; he will come out openly, 
and demand your hand in marriage now, and your 
father, being in his power, will work for him. You 
will be sacrificed to save your father from ruin.” 

She turned pale ; her large eyes filled with a look 
of horror. 


The Mail Robber 2 


i8 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ My father would not do this," she cried. 

He smiled bitterly. 

“ Why not? ” he asked. “ Sister Alice, I will 
show you this plot— for plot it is, depend on it — 
and you will then see I am right. Your father will 
be ruined if money is not forthcoming to take up 
this mortgage when it falls due. The man who 
holds it will come to him and say: ‘John, I love 
your daughter; give her to me, and I will give you 
back your property.’ He is wealthy, and that fact 
will cover his physical and moral deformities; and 
your father, a weak, almost childish, old man, will 
yield to him. He will come to you, and show you 
just how he is situated; will work upon your sym¬ 
pathies; and you, poor girl, to save your father, 
consent to become the wife of this man, and live a 
life of misery and suffering, until death steps in to 
relieve you. Cannot you see it, understand it 
all ? ’’ 

She shuddered; her breath coming in short, quick 
gasps. 

“ It is horrible," she gasped. 

“ Horrible, indeed," he muttered. 

“ But I can refuse him," she cried, suddenly. 

“You — you can. But you will not, Alice. You 
will pity your poor old father, and will consent to 
sacrifice yourself to save him." 

She sobbed bitterly. 

“ It may be," she cried; “ and all my plans for a 
life of happiness with you will be thwarted. Oh, 
John, I can’t give you up, even to save my father. 


HOW IT CAME ABOUT 19 

I love you, John. You are my all. You know why 
I love you.” 

She threw her soft, white arms about his neck, 
and clung to him. 

He gently, fondly kissed her. 

“ It does seem hard,” he said. “ I love you, 
dear; the thought of giving you up causes me 
excruciating torture; but what can we do? ” 

She made no reply, only clung to him tighter. 

“ If I had this money, I would save your father,” 
he muttered, as if to himself. “ If I had been 
saving, not squandered my wages as fast as I 
earned them, I would have sufficient to take up 
the mortgage and defeat this villain.” 

“ Ah, if you only could,” she cried. 

He frowned. 

“ If,” he muttered; " a little word of two letters, 
but how great an obstacle it is to many of our 
desires. I have no such amount of money.” 

She turned from him sadly. 

“ Something may turn up before the mortgage 
comes due,” she said. “ If not, I suppose I shall 
have to do as you have said.” Then suddenly, 
“ But this may never come; perhaps Mr. Brown 
does not want me for his wife. You,loving me so 
much, may only imagine this. Neither of us know 
positively that it is so.” 

He shook his head. 

“ True, Alice; but the very fact of his having 
shown a desire for you in the former time, proves 
to my mind that it is as I have said. Depend 


20 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


upon it, he will press his suit, and that before 
many days.” 

“ And I will be powerless to refuse him,” she 
murmured indistinctly, her voice low and sad. 

He stood silent as to words, but the look in his 
eyes, the compression of his lips, were ominous 
signs, and more eloquent than words. He was 
thinking. 

“ If this man should die,” he muttered, “ then 
your father would be saved.” 

“ There is little hope of such a thing occurring,” 
she answered. 

“ A quarrel, a blow, and it would be over,” he 
continued, as if he had not heard her speaking, 
musingly. 

“ What do you mean, John? ” she cried, in star¬ 
tled tones. 

He aroused himself with a start. 

“ Nothing, probably — much, perhaps,” he 
answered, contradictorily. 

“ I cannot understand you,” she whispered, her 
mouth dry, her voice almost inaudible. 

“ I can hardly understand myself,” he answered, 
forcing a smile. “ Oh, Alice, my heart is sad and 
heavy. If I could only help you.” 

He spoke in a melancholy tone, that went to the 
girl’s heart. 

“ Perhaps something may occur,” she ventured. 

“ I shall move Heaven and earth to bring that 
something about,” he answered, in a resolute tone. 
“ My mind is made up. I will save you, Alice. I 


HOW IT CAME ABOUT 


21 


swear that you shall never become the wife of Bill 
Brown! ” 

He spoke determinedly, his voice firm and reso¬ 
lute. 

She uttered a glad cry, and clasped her arms 
about his neck. 

“ I knew it! ” she cried; " I knew you could do 
it! But how?” 

He frowned. 

“ I shall try several means ; if one fail me, the 
others shall not. There is nothing on earth that 
can thwart a resolute, desperate man! ” He spoke 
in a loud, clear voice. 

“ Don’t be too sure of that,” came an answering 
voice from the bushes. 

They turned quickly. The girl, with a cry of 
alarm; the man with a curse. Some one had over¬ 
heard their conversation, and the next moment 
they saw who it was. 

A stooped-shouldered, bent old man, with a 
malicious leer upon his wrinkled face, advanced 
toward them. 

“ Bill Brown! ” said Moore, hoarsely. 

“ Yes, Johnnie; Bill Brown,” replied the new¬ 
comer, approaching them. " And I have heard 
every word you uttered.” 

Moore clinched his hands as if to strike the 
man, but did not do so; he saw the glistening bar¬ 
rel of a revolver in the hand of the old man. 

"Don’t strike, Johnnie,” chuckled the rum- 
seller. “ At close range I could shoot you easily.” 


22 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ Curse you for an eavesdropping scoundrel,’* 
muttered Moore. 

“ Go easy, Johnnie,” replied the man. “ Acci¬ 
dent brought me to the scene. You spoke rather 
loud, and I could not help hearing you.” 

“ Well, you heard what I said?” asked Moore, 
rapidly. 

“ Every word of it, Johnnie.” 

“ Then, you know how matters stand? ” 

“ Perfectly.” 

“ You know I see you in your true character.” 

"I won’t admit that. There is an old saying 
that listeners never hear any good of themselves; 
I can prove the truth of it, as far as my experience 
of to-night goes. You don’t think very much of 
me, and neither does your lady friend. But things 
may change; they do sometimes, and then we will 
see who comes out winner.” 

Histone was one of malice; his little eyes glit¬ 
tering in the moonlight. 

“ What are your plans?” demanded Moore. 

The old man chuckled. 

“ I may look green,” he replied; “ I live in Green 
River, but that does not make me particularly 
verdant.” 

“ You refuse to tell me? ” 

“ I might ask you the same question. Would 
you divulge your plans to me? ” 

Moore hesitated, then he answered, quickly: 

“ I propose to do so. I think I understand what 
you propose to do, so I shall act accordingly. I 
will tell you my plans. ” 


HOW IT CAME ABOUT 


23 


Brown looked surprised. 

“ You’re a fool, then,” he insinuated. 

Moore flushed. 

“ No. Not a fool,” he cried; “ but, as you are 
concerned in the matter, and know so much already, 
it will not make much, if any, difference whether I 
tell you the rest or not. I will speak to you pri¬ 
vately.” 

Brown smiled, sarcastically. 

“ Very well,” he replied; “now is as good a 
time as any. ” 

The young man turned to the girl. 

“Go home, Alice,” he whispered; “leave me 
alone with this man. I must see him alone.” 

The girl turned white. 

“You will not do anything desperate?” she 
whispered. 

Moore smiled. “ No, dear ; but I must see him. 
Do not fear; I will save you and your father, and 
will not harm myself.” 

She turned slowly and left him. 

The two men watched her until she disappeared 
from sight, and then the young man turned upon 
the other, his eyes flashing, his breast heaving. 
“ We are alone,” he muttered. “ Now you shall 
know my plans, and I shall know yours.’ 

Brown shrugged his misshapen shoulders. “ All 
right,” he replied ; “ fire away. I suppose it has 
got to come. ” 


24 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


CHAPTER III. 

THE DUEL. 

For some seconds the two men stood facing each 
other.. 

Finally Moore said: 

“ How much of our conversation did you hear? ” 

“ Enough,” said Brown. 

“ Be explicit; it is necessary for me to know so 
that I can explain.” 

" I heard it all.” 

“ All?” 

41 Every word; I heard the girl tell you of her 
father’s act, and knew what followed.” 

41 You know, then, that I have determined to save 
that helpless old imbecile, and tear his daughter from 
your clutches?” 

Brown winced. 

“ Go slow, Johnnie,” he muttered; “ you are sur¬ 
mising a great deal; you are not sure I want the 
girl at all.” 

“ Sure enough for me,” he cried. “ You need 
not try to deny it; I can almost read your devilish 
plans in your eyes.” 

“ The eyes sometimes speak lies.” 

“ No doubt of that; but yours do not in this case. 
I can read you, Brown, and I demand to know what 
your true intentions are.” 

He spoke fiercely. His companion sneered. 

“ If you are so skillful in reading me, you ought 
to know,” he replied. 


THE DUEL 


25 


" I do know, damn you; I do know what you 
intend to do. But hear me, Brown, you shall never 
carry out your plans. You have that old man in 
your power, but I’ll thwart you.” 

“ Bah, don’t be a fool,” muttered Brown; " you 
speak rashly; how can you prevent me from doing 
anything? ” 

“ I came here to explain to you my intentions; 
I may as well do so,” answered Moore, calmly, 
controlling himself with an effort. “ I can either 
take up the mortgage, or ” — and he hesitated, his 
eyes glittering ominously. 

“ Or what? ” 

“ Kill you, Brown” 

The words came hissing from between his set 
teeth. The rum-seller recoiled, his face blanching, 
his fingers working. 

“ You would murder me?” he gasped mechanic¬ 
ally. 

“ Yes, rather than see that sweet girl your wife.” 

Brown stood as if petrified for a moment, then 
his self-possession returned to him, his thick lips 
parted, and a cynical smile rested upon his features. 

“ Really, you alarmed me somewhat at first,” he 
grunted; “ but I have got over that now; you 
won’t kill anyone, Johnnie; you haven’t got the 
nerve. ” 

Moore sprang toward him. 

“ Don’t be too sure of that, Brown,” he hissed. 
“ A man will do much for the woman he loves.” 

Brown scowled. “ You love her,” he muttered. 

“ You ought to be able to see this, You ought 


26 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


to know it; you overheard our conversation/* 
answered the young man. 

" I was not sure you loved her. Men often pre¬ 
tend to love a girl for base reasons. I did not 
know but what you were one of these.” 

“ No. I love her, and am going to marry her.*’ 

“ Unless I prevent it,” said the saloonkeeper, 
quietly. 

“ You prevent it? ” 

" Yes.” 

“ How?” 

” By marrying her myself. ” 

“ Ah! Then, I was right. You do intend to 
marry her.” 

The young man stood with heaving breast before 
the other. Brown suddenly changed in his 
demeanor. His manner became one of fixed 
determination. He stood erect, and looked his 
companion in the eyes. 

“ Yes, John Moore, I am going to marry Alice 
Hutchings,” he said, firmly, “ and no earthly power 
can prevent me. True, I did ruin the father to put 
him in my power, so as the girl would be brought 
to my arms. I have plotted for years to bring 
about this thing, and now it is as I want it. 
You can threaten and fume. Go ahead ; it won’t 
do you any good. I am not afraid of your threats. 
Your words, although they alarmed me a little at 
first, amount to nothing. Alice Hutchings shall be 
my wife, in spite of you and your threats.” 

For an instant Moore stood aghast. He had not 
expected this from the deformed, weak old man. 


THE DUEL 


2 7 


He stood for a moment silent, seemingly overcome; 
then he slowly removed his coat and threw it upon 
the ground. His next movement was significant. 
He drew a shining revolver. Looking the old man 
in the eye^he said, without any appearance of anger, 
but with a voice pregnant with determination: 

“ At last I understand you, Bill Brown,” he said. 
“ I see what you propose to do. I have seen your 
hand; now I am going to play mine. I love Alice 
Hutchings. I have made up my mind to make her 
my wife. Understand me — make her my wife! 
You stand in my way. I must remove you, but 
not by staining my hands in your blood; I will not 
murder you; I will give you a chance to save your¬ 
self. See, I have a revolver, so have you. Draw 
your weapon. We will measure off ten paces and 
fire. The man who is successful shall win Alice 
Hutchings. ” 

Brown heard him through, then silently removed 
his hand from the side pocket of his coat, where it 
had been during the conversation, and in it he held 
a revolver. 

“ Very good,” he said. “ You see I was ready 
for you in case you had attempted to do me foul. 
I had my hand on the gun, and I would have 
pressed the trigger if you had made one unfair 
movement.” 

“ I am not a murderer,” muttered Moore. “ I 
intended to give you a chance, even though my 
words might have conveyed a different idea a 
short time ago; hence, time is precious, this matter 
must be decided; we will pace off the distance. 


28 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ One moment, Johnnie/' said the elder man. 
“ Suppose you kill me, the mortgage still holds 
good. My lawyer has it, and it will have to be 
paid to my heirs.” 

“ I never thought of that; I was only thinking of 
preventing the girl from falling into your hands.” 

“ So I thought; now, Johnnie, we have not been 
bad friends in the past, and, if it were not for Alice, 
we would probably never have any difficulty. I 
am just as anxious to get rid of you as you are to 
get rid yourself of me; but, if either one of us was 
to kill the other, then the survivor would very 
likely be arrested for murder, and that would set¬ 
tle the matter. You are anxious to fight, so am I; 
but I am not eager to be arrested, and the idea of 
hanging is not a pleasant one to me. We might 
arrange matters so that the after-result will not be 
detrimental to our desires. If you kill me, you 
will have the girl, all right; if I am the best shot, 
I’ll have her. If I am unsuccessful, why, the mort¬ 
gage won’t do me any good; so, I will tell you what 
I am willing to do. I want to prove to you that I 
am fair, and not near as bad as you think. ” 

“ What do you propose to do? ” asked Moore, 
surprised at the turn things had taken. 

“ Simply this: Before we fight I will draw up a 
paper in which shall be stated that we are about to 
fight a duel In case of the death of either, it will 
then be proven that murder has not been committed. 
We will both sign it. In addition to this, I will add, 
that, in case of my death, the mortgage I hold against 



THE DUEL 29 

John Hutchings shall be considered paid, and he 
will be free. Do you understand? ” 

Moore hesitated a moment before replying. He 
could not understand why this man who, but a few 
moments before, had spoken and acted as he had 
done, should now wish to act so fairly. It was not 
like the man. 

“ What are you driving at? ” he asked, sud¬ 
denly. 

“ I only wish to have things fair and square,” 
answered Brown. “ I will keep the paper. If I 
fall, then you can take it. If you die, I can pro¬ 
duce it and destroy the clause concerning the 
mortgage.” 

It seemed fair enough to Moore to be agreed. 
“ Be quick about it,” he said. 

A strange smile crossed the old man’s face as the 
young man spoke. He began searching his pock¬ 
ets. 

“ I haven’t a bit of paper about me,” he announced, 
after rummaging through every pocket. 

“ I think I have,” and Moore picked up his coat, 
and began searching the pockets. Finally he drew 
a letter from the inside pocket, and took a sheet of 
writing paper from the envelope. 

“ Write it on the back of this sheet,” he said, 
glancing at the missive. “ The front page is written 
upon, but the back is blank.” 

Brown took the paper from him, and, in the dim 
light of the moon, which had come from behind a 
cloud, wrote the agreement and statement. He 


3 ° 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


then read it over to Moore, who expressed himself 
as satisfied, and signed it. 

Brown added his name, and put the paper in his 
pocket. 

“ All is now satisfactory,*' he said, quietly. 
“Take your position.*' 

Moore carefully paced off the distance, and 
stood ready. 

Brown did not seem to be satisfied with the dis¬ 
tance. 

" We will stand back to back, walk ten steps, 
then turn and fire,” he said. 

“ Very well,” agreed Moore. 

The two men stood back to back. At a signal 
they stepped away from each other. Moore had 
not made more than two steps when he heard a 
woman’s shrill scream, then a pistol-shot, and heard 
the whiz of a bullet as it barely missed his head. 

He turned quickly, and saw Bill Brown holding 
a smoking revolver in his hand, while Alice Hutch¬ 
ings was holding onto the wrist of the man with a 
tight grasp. 

“ What could it mean? ” he asked himself, and 
sprang toward the two. 

“ Alice,” he cried, “ what brings you here? ” 

“ He tried to kill you,” she sobbed; “ he turned 
and took deliberate aim at you.” 

“She lies!” muttered Brown, trying to break 
from her. 

“No. She tells the truth,” said Moore, sternly; 
“ I understand why you wished to have that paper 
written now; you intended to murder me when my 


What followed 31 

back was turned. Oh, you cowardly dog! I 
should be justified in killing you.” 

The coward winced. 

“ No, no! John, don't do that,” cried Alice; 
" let him go; you are uninjured. Do not become 
a murderer for such a man.” 

Moore hesitated, his fingers clutching the shining 
revolver. He was terribly angry, but the girl's 
pleadings saved Brown’s life, for he put up his re¬ 
volver and said: “ It shall be as you wish, Alice; 
but, oh, how I should like to wipe that dirty dog 
from off the face of the earth.” Then to Brown: 
“ Go, you cowardly devil; but first leave your 
revolver; you would not hesitate a minute about 
firing a shot at me when you were free. Throw 
your gun down on the ground and go.” 

With a muttered curse the defeated murderer did 
as commanded, and, when the girl released him, 
slunk away in the darkness. 

Moore clasped the girl in his arms. She had 
saved his life. 


CHAPTER IV. 

WHAT FOLLOWED. 

As SOON as Brown was out of sight, Moore 
picked up his coat and put it on. Then, turning to 
Alice, who stood pale and trembling, not yet recov¬ 
ered from the terrible strain to which her nerves 
had been subjected, he said : 

“ You saved my life, Alice. How came you to 
arrive at such an opportune moment ?” 



THE MAIL ROBBER 


32 

She looked up into his face, and said, in a low 
tone : “ I saw how you were annoyed at the appear¬ 
ance of Brown. I thought, perhaps, you might be 
tempted to do something desperate. I thought it 
over on my way home, and made up my mind to 
return, and prevent bloodshed, if possible. I did 
not want you to become a murderer. I knew you 
would be lost to me forever if you took that man’s 
life. I came in time to prevent him taking yours. 
Oh, how thankful I am that I came when I did.” 

The young man took her in his arms again. “ You 
are a brave, good girl, Alice,” he said, tenderly. 
“ I will never give you up, darling.” 

She nestled close to him, satisfied, happy. 

“ Tell me what occurred,” she said, at last. 
“ How came you to be off your guard? ” 

He told her all. She heard him through. 

“ Then, he wanted that paper to free him from 
the guilt of your murder,” she said, when he had 
finished. 

“ Yes. It was a cleverly devised scheme.” 

“ Where is that paper now? ” 

He gave a start. 

“ By God! he has it in his pocket,” he cried; 
“ but I don’t suppose it will make any difference,” 
he added, after a moment’s thought. “ It cannot 
be of any service to him now.” 

“ Unless he were to kill you at some future time,” 
she said, nervously. 

He patted her cheek. 

" Never fear for that,” he murmured. “I will 
not give him the chance. I go out on my train in 


WHAT FOLLOWED 33 

a few hours. I will take good care of myself when 
I return. ” 

“ Be sure and watch him,” she cried. “ He is a 
dangerous man. I dread to think of him. Oh, 
what will we ever do about that mortgage? ” 

Moore grew thoughtful. 

“ There is but one thing to do,” he said, slowly. 

“ And what is that? ” anxiously. 

“ Pay it,” he answered, laconically. 

“ But, how can we? Pa has no money.” 

“ I may be able to extricate him from his unpleas¬ 
ant position before the mortgage comes due,” 
replied Moore. 

“ But how can you?” she returned. 

“ Much can be done in a short time sometimes,” 
he said. “ I swore I would save your father; I will 
do it. Go home, little girl; make your mind easy. 
Your father shall be saved, and we will get married 
and leave Green River forever.” 

He pressed a kiss upon her pouting lips, and, 
feeling easier in her mind, she left him and hurried 
home. He stood and watched her receding form. 

“ Yes, ” he muttered, she shall be saved. “ Where 
there is a will, there is always a way; ” and, even 
if I have to stoop to crime, Alice Hutchings’ father 
shall be freed from bondage, and she shall be my 
wife. ” And, picking up Bill Brown’s revolver, he 
put it in his pocket and went to his lodgings. 

He snatched a few hours’ sleep and was at the 
station in time to go out on his train when it was 
due. He had made up his mind to save John 
The Mail Robber 3 


34 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


Hutchings and his daughter. He had said he 
would do it, no matter what the cost. He was 
determined. Ah, John Moore, the cost is even 

greater than you imagine. 

* * * # * * * 

Bill Brown hurried to his saloon, his black 
heart filled with venom, cursing his failure. 

“ Damn the girl,” he muttered. “ She came in 
time to thwart me, but the day will yet come; she 
will not always be near. John Moore must die; 
while he lives there is always danger of him caus¬ 
ing me trouble. The girl loves him, that is a self- 
evident fact, and she might be induced to elope 
with the man, and then all would be lost. I must 
in some way manage to get rid of him; how can it 
be done? ” 

He thought the matter over all the way home, 
but no idea occurred to him. 

He found the saloon in full blast, but soon left 
the scene of riotous dissipation. He wanted to 
think; he had need of all his wits to thwart John 
Moore, and bring about a successful culmination to 
his deeply laid plans. 

As he sat in the privacy of his room, he thought 
of the paper which had been written by him upon 
the ground of the proposed duel that night. He 
remembered he still had it in his pocket. He 
plunged his hand into that receptacle and brought 
it out. With a hard smile he read it over. 

" A good scheme,” he muttered; “ it threw him 
completely off his guard, and in a minute more I 
should have been successful, but the girl had to 


WHAT FOLLOWED 35 

come. Women are always around when they are 
not wanted.” 

He carelessly turned the paper over, and glanced 
at the writing upon the other side. He remem¬ 
bered that Moore had said that the letter was writ¬ 
ten upon one side of the sheet, but he had not 
thought anything of it at the time; but now, as his 
evil eyes danced over the writing, his face changed; 
a look of joy came to his eyes. He read eagerly, 
and, finishing, brought his hand down with force 
upon the table before him, causing the lamp which 
furnished him light to jump from the place where 
it stood. He cried: 

“ By God! I have it now. I can defy John Moore 
now, and Alice will not refuse me when she sees 
this. Fool! Why did he put this means in my 
power to further my own interest and irrevocably 
ruin his own prospects? The girl would never 
marry him if she came to see this, and I’ll take good 
care that she shallsee it. Shall I go to-night? No; 
it is too late. Let me see, he goes out on his run 
to-night. He will not be back for several days. 
I can go to her house to-morrow, that will be time 
enough, and before to-morrow night fair Alice 
Hutchings will willingly give her consent to become 
my wife.” 

He carefully put the letter away, and prepared 
to retire. 

As he blew out the lamp and got into bed, he 
chuckled to himself—that self-satisfied chuckle for 
which he was noted — and muttered: 

" Luck is on my side. How the fair Alice will 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


36 

open her pretty eyes when they rest upon that let¬ 
ter. How her beautiful face will darken with anger. 

I can almost imagine I can see her now. She may 
say something about the shooting affair, but I reckon 
I can smooth that over satisfactorily.” 

And, congratulating himself, he fell asleep, and 
slept soundly, as soundly as though he had never 
attempted the life of a human being. Truly, some 
men seem to have no conscience, or, if they have, 
they hold it in such subjection, and keep it under 
such complete control, that it never causes them 
any annoyance. 

Bill Brown’s conscience was completely swal¬ 
lowed up and overruled by that demon that rules 
so many of us. 

Self! 

How often we will sacrifice friends, honor, repu¬ 
tation, for those things which are not empty in 
themselves, but which bring us momentary gratifi¬ 
cation. 

They pamper the demon, fill the worst side of 
our nature with joy. They satisfy our greedy, 
ever-craving, overwhelming self. 

A little word; but how some people work for it. 
How willingly, ambitiously, we delve and scheme, 
and even sin for it. 

It is human nature. 


THE LETTER 


37 


CHAPTER V. 

THE LETTER. 

Alice hastened home, after leaving Moore, her 
mind easy, yet feeling a vague feeling of fear that 
something was going to occur. She felt assured 
that Moore would do all in his power to free her 
father from Brown’s debt, and so felt easy on that 
score, but in her heart was that strange presenti¬ 
ment that comes to us all at times, and for which 
we cannot account. 

Her father was sleeping soundly when she arrived, 
and, with stealthy footstep, she crept up the stairs 
to her own little room, and was soon soundly 
sleeping. 

The morning dawned fair and cloudless, a 
bright, beautiful morning. All nature seemed at 
rest. The birds sang as if for very joy, happy with 
the joyous thought that they lived, satisfied with 
their lot. 

Old John had been drinking some the night 
before, and so was not yet out of bed when Alice, 
clad in a simple gown of some light material, came 
down-stairs. The morning was so bright that she 
determined to take a walk before breakfast, and so, 
taking up a large hat, she donned it, and went out 
into the fresh air and sunshine. 

God’s medicines. If suffering humanity but took 
more of them, instead of drugs and potions, how 
much better would they feel. 

The girl strolled aimlessly into the forest. A 


38 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


gentle wind softly sighed among the branches of 
the trees, singing Nature’s lullaby, sweet and mu¬ 
sical. She sat down upon a moss-covered log, and 
looked about her; but for the strange, uncomforta¬ 
ble feeling at her heart, she would have been com¬ 
pletely happy. She sat for a long time, uncon¬ 
scious of the flight of time, and did not make any 
effort to arouse herself from her reverie, until the 
cracking sound of a twig breaking under the weight 
of a heavy footstep, caused her to look up with a 
low, startled cry. 

With an exclamation of loathing, she saw Bill 
Brown standing before her. He was neatly 
dressed, and was gazing at her with a look of love 
and sadness in his peculiar eyes. 

“ Mr. Brown! ” she murmured, unconsciously. 

“ Yes, I went to the house to find you, but saw 
no one; and, knowing that you often came to this 
spot, I came here,” he said, respectfully. 

“ Why did you go to my house? I should think 
you would feel some shame, some remorse, at seeing 
me,” she said, scornfully. 

“ Why? ” he asked, quietly. 

“ For your despicable actions; your cowardly 
deed of last night,” she said. 

“ I am not guilty of any despicable or cowardly 
deed,” he said, firmly. 

" You tried to murder John Moore last night,” 
she cried. 

“ Are you sure of that? ” he asked. 

“ I saw you take deliberate aim at him, and, but 
for me, you would have killed him.” 


THE LETTER 


39 

Her words were bitter, accusing. He never 
changed color nor showed any signs of guilt. 

“ Appearances are often deceitful,” he simply 
said. “ I could not explain matters last night. 
You would not give me a chance. You are so 
wrapped up in Johnnie Moore that you would not 
believe any one when he had spoken. ” 

“ Do you mean to say that you did not intend to 
kill him? ” she cried. 

“ Allow me to explain. You heard his story. 
You, no doubt, believed him; but, remember, 

‘ one story’s good until another’s told.’ Hear 
mine. I am not near as bad as you think me.” 

“ I do not wish to hear your story,” she said, 
turning to leave him. 

He stood in her path. 

“ Injustice to myself, I must demand that you 
hear me. Don’t try to pass me. My mission here 
this morning is to save you trouble and many heart¬ 
aches. I insist upon your hearing me. ” 

She saw that it would be useless to attempt to 
pass him, and so re-seated herself upon the log, and 
said, with a sigh of resignation: 

“ Very well; you are a man, and very much 
stronger than I, so, I suppose, I shall have to listen 
to you.” 

He started to explain without further preamble. 

" You remember what Moore said last night, 
that he would kill me? ” 

“ Yes; but he spoke in anger.” 

“ Very likely; but he meant it just the same, and 
you know you believed him. Well, he tried to 



40 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


kill me. Having a love for life, I resolved to resort 
to stratagem. I proposed a duel in which each of 
us would have an equal chance. He was adverse 
to this at first, even had me covered with his 
revolver, and had made up his mind to kill me.” 

“ Do you mean to say you proposed the duel? ” 

“ Precisely; probably he has told you that he 
made the proposition; but, if so, he lied; it came 
from me.” 

She thought it over; it might be true. 

" Well,” she murmured. 

“ At my suggestion, we each signed a paper 
which would prove that neither of us was guilty of 
downright murder in case either of us was killed.” 

" Yes; he told me of that.” 

“ Did he? Then, you will not doubt what I am 
going to tell you. That paper was written upon 
the blank half-sheet of a letter which he took from 
his pocket.” 

“ Yes, yes! I would I knew all this,” she cried, 
anxiously. 

“ We turned back to back. I feared treachery 
on his part. He had expressed himself so deter¬ 
minedly when he spoke of killing me that I feared 
he might turn upon me and shoot me in the back; 
so, when we had made but a few steps, I turned. I 
saw him in the act of turning. I knew that my sus¬ 
picions had been correct, and, to save myself, I 
fired.” 

“ That is not true, Bill Brown,” she cried, rising 
and facing him; “ I was there, and saw it all.” 

“ One moment. You were there, I know; but 


THE LETTER 


41 


you could not well watch him and myself at the 
same time; you had no thought of saving my life; 
you saw only my action, and so seized my wrist 
when I was about to fire, and did not observe his 
action. ” 

She considered a moment. 

The man spoke sincerely. 

True, she had not observed Moore closely; she 
had heard him say he would kill Brown. Perhaps 
the man was speaking the truth. 

“ I cannot bring myself to believe John Moore 
guilty of treachery,'' she said, at last, one half 
believing what she said. 

He saw that she was beginning to believe him. 
He followed up his success quickly. 

“ Your love for John Moore makes you blind to 
many things which are plain to other people. Love 
is blind, they say, and you are a woman unused to 
the ways of the world. He has made use of you for 
a base purpose, meaning to deceive you. He has 
proven treacherous, even to you.” 

She essayed to stop him, but useless; he spoke 
the words in spite of her protestations. 

“ What do you mean? ” she asked, faintly, when 
he had finished. 

“ I mean that John Moore had never any idea of 
marrying you; that his words have been lies 

She stopped him. 

“ You have said enough,” she said, scornfully. 
“ I thought perhaps that your explanation might be 
true, but now I feel that you have lied to me. John 


42 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


Moore is not here to defend himself, and you take 
this opportunity to try and turn me against him.” 

He never changed color, but looked her steadily 
in the eyes. 

“ I can prove all I say,” he replied, " and you 
will see that I am not telling lies. I say again that 
John Moore never had any intention of marrying 
you. In fact, he could not wed you without com¬ 
mitting a crime. ” 

She turned as white as a sheet, and staggered as 
though struck a heavy blow. “ Explain,” she 
gasped ; “ what crime? ” 

“ The crime of bigamy,” he answered, firmly. 

“ Bigamy? ” The word broke from her. 

“ Yes. John Moore is already married , and has 
two children .” 

With a groan, she sank upon the log. She could 
not bring herself to believe the man’s words. He 
must be lying ; he certainly could not prove this. 
This thought gave her hope. She composed her¬ 
self, and, rising, faced him again. 

“ I do not believe you ; you are lying,” she said. 

He quietly removed a sheet of paper from his 
pocket, and handed it to her. “Read that,” he 
said. “ It is the half of the letter given me by 
Moore last night, to write the statement upon. 
Read it; you will not doubt me then. It will prove 
to you beyond a doubt the truth of my words.” 

She took the paper, her hands trembling as if 
with ague as she did so. It was folded. She 
slowly smoothed out the wrinkles in the paper, and 
read : 


AN EASY VICTIM 


43 


“ Riverdale, Neb. July 6, 1877. 

“My Dear Husband — As you have not visited me for some 
time, and I am in need of clothing for myself and the children, I 
thought I had better write you. John, you have not treated me 
right; I will admit that I have been harsh with you, but you.should 
overlook these things. I love you so much that I am insanely jeal¬ 
ous of you, my love makes me so; but you are a man, and should 
have the strongest mind, and overlook any petty jealousy. You have 
two beautiful children. You should think, for their sake; they love 
their papa dearly, and for their sakes, if not for mine, return to us. ” 

Here the missive came to an abrupt termination, 
the balance of the letter must be on the other half 
of the sheet, which was in the possession of Moore; 
but it was enough, the girl had read the words, 
and they sank deep into her heart. She believed 
Brown’s words now; and, with an involuntary clutch 
at her breast, she sank sideways from the log, and 
became unconscious. 

The man stood gazing at her rounded form, as 
she lay upon the greensward. His eyes glittered, 
and his face shone with satisfaction. 

“ She is mine,”he muttered. “ Mine! She will 
not refuse to listen to me now.” Then he set 
about bringing her to, and in a short time was suc¬ 
cessful. 


CHAPTER VI. 

AN EASY VICTIM. 

WHEN Alice came to her senses again, she looked 
about her. She still clutched the letter in her hand, 
and the feeling of the crackling paper brought every¬ 
thing vividly to her mind again. 


44 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


Brown stood watching her. She passed her 
white hand over her eyes, as if to dispel some hor¬ 
rible vision, and then slowly re-read the letter. 

Yes. It was from a forsaken wife to her husband; 
and John Moore was that husband. 

He had deceived her. 

A faint blush of shame crimsoned her cheeks as 
the memory of all that had passed between them 
in the days gone by came to her. She had given 
him all the love of her young heart, all that woman 
should hold dear. His low, tender voice had worked 
her ruin, and now she had found him married, the 
father of two children who loved him. 

“ Oh, what will become of me? ” she murmured, 
unconsciously, aloud. 

Brown heard her. He sat down on the log 
beside her, and took her listless, limp hand. 

“ I will tell you,” he murmured. 

She made a faint effort to withdraw her hand, 
but he held her securely. 

“ Listen to me, Alice,” he said, in a low tone; 
“ I regret that this has happened, for I see that it 
causes you sorrow, and God knows, I would be 
the last man to cause you pain. No matter what 
you think of me, you love Moore. You have 
allowed your love to get the upper hand of you, and 
you now suffer from the effects of your indiscre¬ 
tion. I know all that has passed between you, but 
I shall not say anything about it. The memory of 
it brings you sufficient punishment. I love you, 
Alice; I am not a young man, neither am I a hand¬ 
some one, but I love you, and would make you a 


AN EASY VICTIM 


45 


good husband. I have money; you would not be 
obliged to lift your hand to do anything. I will 
give up my present business if you will consent to 
be my wife, and we can leave Green River, and 
together can be happy. Come, will you con¬ 
sent? ” 

He awaited her answer eagerly. The girl made 
no reply for some time. Her heart was sad and 
sore; she could not look upon this old, deformed 
man as a husband; it was too awful to think of. 
Finally, she said: 

“ I cannot be your wife, Mr. Brown. I shall 
never marry. ” 

“ You don’t mean what you say,” he answered. 
“ You are crushed now beneath the blow which I 
have thought it my duty to inflict. I thought of 
this all night; I hardly slept at all for thinking of it. 
It is sad, I will admit; but, if you will look at it in a 
sensible light, you will see that I am right, and acted 
for the best. I would make you a good husband, 
Alice, loving and kind. Think of it. The story of 
your shame may get abroad. Men will turn from 
you; none of them will want a stained creature for 
a wife. My love for you causes me to overlook all 
this. I will never reproach you for your weakness. 
I don’t expect you to love me; I am not a very lov¬ 
able object. Only be a wife to me; make my life 
happy and worth the living. You can do this. 
Then, again, your father will be freed from debt. 
We will grow young again in his joy, and we shall 
be happy. Think over it, and give me your con¬ 
sent.” 


46 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


His words struck deep. He spoke earnestly, 
almost beseechingly. She felt that he spoke truly. 
She began to picture to herself a home, where she 
would be mistress, far away from Green River, 
where none would know her. Brown might make 
her a good husband. He was not handsome, but 
he might be true. She knew she could never love 
him; he was old and ugly. Then, again, he might 
not live long; he might die, and then she would be 
a rich widow, and could marry some one whom she 
could love. These wild thoughts coursed through 
her brain with lightning rapidity — she was indeed 
thinking deeply. The man sat with his piercing 
eyes fixed upon her face; he felt that she was com¬ 
ing around in his favor; he could almost read her 
thoughts upon her beautiful face. With a sigh, she 
recovered herself. 

“ I will think of what you have said,” she mur¬ 
mured. “ I cannot give you my answer now It is 
hard to give up the fondly cherished hopes of a girl’s 
first love.” 

41 Then, I can hope? ” he cried, eagerly. 

“ Yes,” she said, mechanically; “ I will not say 
no.” 

He pressed her little hand to his sensual lips. 

“ You will give me a satisfactory answer, I know,” 
he said; “ but let it be soon. Suspense is trying. ” 

“ In a day or so you shall know,” she murmured, 
releasing her hand and rising; “ but I must go now; 
father will be waiting for his breakfast, and will 
wonder where I am.” 

He stopped her. 


AN EASY VICTIM 


47 


“ Can’t you give me your answer to-day,” he 
persisted; “ I can come to the house to-night; you 
will have all day to think it over; say you will give 
me your answer to-night.” 

She hesitated. She could not decide so quickly. 
But then another thought came to her mind. What 
difference did it make when she gave the answer? 
Why not to-night as well as any other time? She 
knew Moore to be guilty of deceit and treachery. 
Why not end the business, and decide to do one 
thing or the other? 

" I will give you your answer to-night,” she 
said. 

“Thank you,” he murmured; “ I will call at 
seven. ” 

She turned from him and walked slowly toward 
the house. 

He stood watching her, until her form was hid¬ 
den by the trees, and then chuckling gleefully, he 
hurried away in the direction of the town. 

“ She is mine,” he muttered to himself over and 
over again. “Mine, beyond doubt; ah, that duel 
was a lucky thing for me; how easily everything 
has come about. How sweet she looked; I would 
steep my hands in blood for her; she is a rare prize, 
well worth the having. ” 

Meanwhile Alice made the best of her way home. 
Her heart felt so heavy in her breast, and was beat¬ 
ing with a dull thud that pained her. The words 
of the letter were ringing in her ears —these and 
Brown’s earnest pleadings. Perhaps it might be 
better to marry him and have the trouble over 


48 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


with; what was there in life for her now? What 
difference did it make what became of her? ” So 
she thought at least a score of times before reach¬ 
ing the house. 

Old John was sitting by the open window, smok¬ 
ing, as she drew near. His eyes were bloodshot 
and bleared, and he needed shaving. An involun¬ 
tary shudder crept over the girl’s slender form as 
her eyes rested upon him. What a wreck! A 
noble life thrown away, and yet he was her father, 
and, as a father, had ever been kind to her. He 
had his weakness, but it was not her place to chide 
him, rather love him, so she thought, and the next 
moment stood before him. 

“ Bless me, Alice! but you’ve kept me waitin’ a 
long time for breakfast,” he cried, querulously, as 
she entered the house. 

“ I took a long walk through the woods, father, 
and met Mr. Brown by chance; he detained me,” 
she answered, going to the cupboard for a cloth to 
spread upon the table. 

“ Brown? ” he mumbled, looking out of the win¬ 
dow, with his poor, weak, bleared eyes watering. 

“ Yes; Bill Brown,” answered the girl. 

“ Did he say anything to you about the mort¬ 
gage?” 

“ No.” She hastened her preparations for break¬ 
fast. 

In a short time the simple meal was ready, and 
the old man sat down opposite his fair young 
daughter. 


AN EASY VICTIM 49 

He ate greedily; he had taken a drink or two, 
and they had given him an appetite. 

Alice ate but little, and John noticed it. 

“ Funny,” he remarked; “ when I was your age, 
I had an appetite like a hoss.” 

She made no reply, and the meal proceeded in 
silence. Suddenly she rested her elbows on the 
edge of the table, and allowed her chin to repose 
in her two hands. 

“ What would you say if I were to get married?” 
she asked. Old John gave a great start. “ Mar¬ 
ried! ” he gasped. 

“ Yes, why not? I am a child no longer.” 

The old man sat down his cup and gazed, first at 
her, and then out of the window, upon the beau¬ 
tiful landscape. 

“ I suppose the time is come when yell leave 
your old father and take a husband,” he mumbled, 
his chin quivering. 

“ No, father, I shall never leave you,” she said. 
“ My home must be your home as long as you 
live.” 

“ Then, ye do love yer old poppy a little,” the 
old man said, looking her in the eyes. 

“ Dearly, father. ” She had risen during her 
speech, and now stood by his side. 

“ You’re all I’ve got now, ” mumbled the old man. 
“ If I lost you intirely, I’d feel like dyin’.” 

“ You will not lose me, father, I shall never 
leave you.” 

They remained silent for some time. Then she 
The Mail Robber 4 


So 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


asked again: “ Would you like to have me marry 
Bill Brown, father? ” 

He turned and looked at her in surprise. 

“ Bill Brown? ” he muttered, as if he did not quite 
understand her. “ Why, he’s old enough to be your 
father. ” 

“ I know all that, father dear,” she murmured. 

“ But that has nothing to do with it. He is old and 
ugly, but he might make me a good husband. He 
has lots of money, too.” 

John Hutchings sat and pondered. He could not 
quite understand the girl before him. 

“ Yes, he has lots of money,” he said, absently, 
at last. “ Lots of other people’s money; some of 
mine among the rest.” 

“ He would release you from your debt to him 
if I was his wife,” she continued, as if she had not 
heard him. 

Tears came to the old man’s eyes. 

“ And you would sacrifice your young life to save 
your poor old dad? ” he said, in a broken tone. 

“ I love no one but you,” she said. “ Why 
should I not do so? ” 

“ Do you want to marry him?” he asked, sud¬ 
denly. 

“ I have been thinking of it. He asked me this 
morning; he is coming for his answer to-night,’’she 
answered. 

“ What did he say? ” 

“ Simply that he loved me, and, if I would 
become his wife, he would give up his present busi- 




AN EASY VICTIM 5 1 

ness, and move to another locality, where he would 
be unknown. He promised much.” 

“Do you think he will keep his promises?” 

“ I think I can compel him to,” she answered, 
firmly. 

“ Well, do as you like,” he cried. “ If you think 
you can be happy with that dried-up, vicious old 
cuss, why marry him. If you don’t think so, don’t 
let any mortgage, or anything like that, force you. 

I’d rather lose every d-d thing I own than have 

you made unhappy,” and he brought his fist down 
upon the table with great force. 

“ Then, I shall marry him,” she said, and, kissing 
him upon his withered and wrinkled forehead, she 
set about clearing away the breakfast dishes. 

Brown called at the appointed hour. He was 
dressed up in a manner quite out of his usual cus¬ 
tom. 

Why will old men assume clothing much too 
young for them with the expectation of deceiving 
others? Age can never be completely hidden, and 
the silly old fool who tries to make him or herself 
younger, does not even deceive himself, let alone 
the keen eyes of a discriminating public. 

The girl’s answer was simple: 

“ I will become your wife, Mr. Brown. I do not 
love you; I cannot say I even respect you, but I 
will make you a good, true wife, so long as I find 
you are not deceiving me. If I find you have been 
treacherous in any way, then I will cease to be your 
wife. If you want me on those terms, well and 
good.” 



52 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


He took her hand and slipped a sparkling dia¬ 
mond ring upon it. 

“ That is my answer,” he replied. 

So they were betrothed — May and December — 
a fair young creature and a sin-laden wretch. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE MAIL ROBBER. 

On July 31,1877, a clerk in the employ of Messrs. 
Donnell, Lawson & Co., bankers, of New York, 
delivered a package to the registry department of 
the Postoffice of that city. The package was care¬ 
fully sealed. It contained five thousand dollars in 
bills of the Bank of Montreal, and was addressed 
to J. G. Baker & Co., P"ort Benton, M. T. 

The registry clerk numbered the package, entered 
it in the form in the receipt book, and gave the usual 
acknowledgment to the bank employe. 

The money thus intrusted to the care of the 
United States Postoffice was the pay of the Cana¬ 
dian mounted police for July. At that time the 
Canadian Pacific Railroad existed mainly on paper, 
and the Dominion government found it convenient 
to transmit money through Uncle Sam’s territory 
to pay its employes in the Northwest. J. G. Baker 
& Co. were its disbursing agents for that section. 

Every precaution is taken to insure the safety of 
registered letters and parcels. They are checked 
and rechecked by all the officials who handle them, 



THE MAIL ROBBER 53 

and, in case of loss or accident, it is comparatively 
easy to locate the responsibility. 

This money package was surrounded by all the offi¬ 
cial safeguards. On August 2d, after going through 
the hands of twenty different persons, it arrived in 
Chicago apparently in the same condition as when 
handed to the registry clerk in New York. Here, 
according to custom, a new outer wrapper was placed 
upon it, and on August 3 again carefully sealed, 
and, the contents apparently intact, it continued its 
westward journey. 

Four days later the package was delivered to J. 
G. Baker & Co., in Fort Benton. It was then 
properly wrapped and sealed; but, on being opened, 
its contents were found to be oblong pieces of news¬ 
papers made up to imitate money packages instead 
of bills of the Bank of Montreal. 

This fact was immediately telegraphed to the 
Canadian government, who, in turn, notified Messrs. 
Donnell, Lawson & Co. Complaint was lodged with 
Postmaster General Key, and an official inquiry 
ordered. 

It was established beyond a peradventure that 
the package contained $5,000 when delivered to the 
New York Postoffice. The substitution of wads of 
newspaper for the bank bills had taken place be¬ 
tween the time of the registry and delivery at Fort 
Benton. 

During the journey of three thousand miles the 
package would pass through about fifty pairs of 
hands. The thief was uncommonly skillful, since 
the package, as delivered, looked exactly the same 



54 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


as when it was rewrapped in Chicago, and when 
received, here it bore no sign of having been 
tampered with. 

One of the fifty clerks through whose hands it 
passed was guilty of the robbery; but which one? 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A CLUE. 

The Postoffice Department has a secret service of 
its own, but its members are called inspectors in¬ 
stead of detectives. These officials are chosen for 
their shrewdness and expert knowledge of the 
postal service. They deal with a different class of 
men, and are called upon to ferret out a different 
kind of rascality than falls to the lot of the ordi¬ 
nary criminal hunter. 

They trace missing letters, probe the short¬ 
comings of inefficient or careless officials, keep a 
sharp eye on suspected clerks, investigate charges 
of improper use of the mails, and exercise a gen¬ 
eral supervision over the service to the end that 
its efficiency and integrity may be maintained. 

This case of the missing money package was 
promptly referred to the chief inspectors of the 
New York, Chicago and Western divisions, who 
worked in concert for a while to detect the thief. 
Every man who handled the package was placed 
under surveillance, but the most vigilant “ shadow¬ 
ing ” failed to connect any one with the crime. 

All the regulations concerning the handling of 



A CLUE 55 

registered packages had been complied with. The 
package had not been reported “ in bad order ” at 
any stage of its progress. The whole line of route 
was traversed by the detectives without result. 
The more the matter was looked into, the deeper did 
the mystery of the theft become. 

Finally, after several weeks of fruitless investiga¬ 
tion, the case was turned over to Chief Inspector 
James R. Stewart, of the Chicago Division, with 
instructions to spare no effort to clear up the mystery 
and bring the thief to justice. 

There was not the vestige of a clue when Mr. 
Stewart took charge of the case. It had been 
proved that the money was actually in the package 
when handed to the registry clerk in New York. 
Beyond the fact that it disappeared between that 
city and Fort Benton nothing was determined. 

The newspaper which had been cut up in the 
shape of bank bills was a Cincinnati weekly. 
Inquiry at the office of publication showed that 
not one of the fifty persons who handled the pack¬ 
age was a subscriber to that paper. This point 
decided, Inspector Stewart began to suspect that 
the Chicago office contained the thief. As before 
stated, this was the only point between New York 
and Fort Benton, where the package was rewrapped. 
It remained over night in this office for the pur¬ 
pose. 

Two of the Chicago clerks who handled the 
package had gone on a vacation shortly after its 
contents were missed. They were hunting in 
Indiana, and a deputy inspector was sent to make 


56 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


their acquaintance, join in their sports, and ingra¬ 
tiate himself into their confidence. 

This official followed his instructions to the letter. 
He remained with the suspected clerks for two 
weeks, hunting and fishing with them, but could 
learn nothing which tended to implicate them in 
the affair. 

But despite the difficulties of the case, Inspector 
Stewart pursued the investigation with great zeal. 
He sent an agent to Fort Benton, who brought 
back the remains of the package delivered to 
Baker & Co. With one of those sudden inspira¬ 
tions which often play an important part in the un- 
ravelment of crime, Mr. Stewart made up the pack¬ 
age in exact imitation of the manner in which it was 
dispatched from the Chicago office. He found the 
wrapper to overlap, and the string as wound around 
by the Chicago clerk to have a loose play of about 
an inch. 

On close examination, it was observed that the 
wax had been broken. Part of the original seal re¬ 
mained, but the remainder was blurred as if by 
heating. The clerk who rewrapped the package 
had a confirmed habit of giving so many twists and 
turns to the string he used. When those turns and 
twists were repeated on the package as rearranged 
with the newspaper contents by Mr. Stewart, there 
were several inches to spare, showing that the pur- 
loiner of the bank bills had underestimated the 
bulk of the substitute and consequently failed to 
make an exact counterpart of the original package. 

This discovery narrowed the scope of the inves- 


THE TEMPTATION 


5 7 


tigation. It was evident that the package was 
opened after it left Chicago. It was equally certain 
it had not been tampered with between here and 
Omaha, since the clerks at that latter place would 
have reported “ in bad order ” if the string was loose 
when they received it. 

Mr. Stewart therefore concluded that the depre¬ 
dation was committed on the Union Pacific, and 
every postal clerk on that road was subjected to 
increased surveillance. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE TEMPTATION. 

The long ride between Green River and Laramie 
City was accomplished by Moore as usual; his 
work upon the postal car was rather heavy, for he 
had all the mail to sort over between stations, and 
to arrange in the many compartments where the 
local mails were placed. Surrounding him on either 
side were the strong leather pouches into which 
the bundles of letters and papers were thrown pre¬ 
paratory to being thrown from the car at the small 
stations. He had charge of the car, an assistant 
doing the work of gathering in the pouches at the 
many stations, and throwing out those which were 
to be delivered. 

He was unusually silent along the route, saying 
but little to his assistant. He was thinking over 
what had taken place at Green River; wondering 
what Brown intended doing, and what Alice would 



53 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


think of all the circumstances. So he busied him¬ 
self with his work, and said but little. 

He lay over in Laramie for several days, and 
when his time came around again, went to the sta¬ 
tion as usual. The superintendent informed him 
that he would be obliged to make the run by 
himself, as the assistant had been summoned home 
to attend the funeral of his father, who had died 
very suddenly. 

Moore made some remonstrance. The Western 
mails were always very heavy, and there was much 
work to do but it could not be helped, and so, 
when his train was made up, he climbed into the 
postal car and was soon busy. 

The clerk, who had made the run to Laramie, 
turned over to him the registered matter, remark¬ 
ing, as he did so, “ Here’s one package which you 
must be very careful of; it contains quite a large 
amount of money.” 

Moore signed for it, and put it away in the safe. 

The train pulled out. The run was an all-night 
one, and the young man, knowing the amount of 
work to be done, hurried himself to have every¬ 
thing ready when the various points along the 
route should be reached. About twelve o’clock he 
had a chance to breathe. He lit his pipe, and sat 
down to smoke and think. Had much to think of. 
His mind was filled with pretty Alice Hutchings 
and her father, and he began to consider how he 
could manage it to pay off this mortgage. 

He was not a wealthy man by any manner of 
means. He had made a promise hastily, which he 


THE TEMPTATION 


59 


could see no way of fulfilling. Some people often, 
in haste, without stopping to think, say things 
which they are sorry for afterward; and, although 
John Moore loved Alice Hutchings, he almost re¬ 
gretted having spoken so positively as to what he 
would do. But he had given her his word; he 
would find some way to keep it. 

Mechanically he picked up the book in which 
the registered packages are recorded, and looked 
it over. Why he did so, he could not have ex¬ 
plained. He did it as though under the influence 
of some invisible power. 

Among the rest, he saw one addressed to T. G. 
Baker & Co., Fort Benton, Montana. He had 
often carried registered packages for them before. 
He knew them to be the disbursing agents for the 
Canadian Pacific railroad, and came to the conclu¬ 
sion that the package which had been intrusted to 
his care contained a large sum of money, to be 
used in paying off the laborers engaged in con¬ 
structing the road. A wild thought flashed through 
his mind. 

Why not appropriate the money? He was alone. 
No one would suspect him of the crime. He had 
plenty of time to abstract the money, make up a 
new package, and have it signed for by the clerk 
who would take his place at Green River. He 
thought the matter over seriously. A terrific 
battle took place in his breast; a battle between 
conscience and inclination, between good and evil. 
The battle did not last long. Evil won the day. 
He carefully looked about the car, and, finding 


6o 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


beyond doubt that he was alone, opened the safe, 
and took out the package, the same he had been 
cautioned about at Laramie City. 

It was carefully tied up and sealed with wax. 
Lighting a small piece of candle, he held the wax 
close to the flame, in such a manner that the edges 
of it became soft, while the seal remained intact. 
Then, with a sudden jerk, he pulled the string 
through the wax, and, then, bending the paper, 
broke the wax in two, leaving one-half upon each 
edge of the paper. With trembling fingers he 
removed the paper, and saw bills in Canadian money 
amounting to $5,000, just the sum he needed. 
He removed them, putting them carefully away in 
a small sachel which he carried with him. This 
done, he set about making up the package again, 
so it would appear as before. He looked about 
the car. Lying upon the floor in the corner he saw 
a newspaper. Probably his predecessor had been 
reading it, and had thrown it in the corner when he 
had finished. He picked it up; it was a copy of a 
weekly paper printed in Cincinnati. A thought 
occurred to him: 

“ When the package is opened, and this paper is 
found, suspicion will rest upon some one of the 
clerks East. A Cincinnati paper seldom finds its 
way this far West.” 

He carried a pair of scissors with him, and at 
once set about cutting the paper into strips, just 
the size of the bills. It was soon accomplished, 
and, after he had wrapped them up and carefully 
reunited the seal, it would have taken a close 


THE TEMPTATION 


61 


observer to have noticed that the package had been 
tampered with. The train reached Green River. 
He turned over the package to the clerk who suc¬ 
ceeded him, and saw with satisfaction that he signed 
for it without a moment’s hesitation. 

“ Good,” he muttered, as he walked to his lodg¬ 
ings carrying the sachel; “ I can now keep my 
promise, and beautiful Alice Hutchings shall become 
my wife. I must be careful for a few days or 
weeks, there will be a great hue and cry over this 
affair, and, if I came forward with much money in 
my possession, some one might suspect something, 
so I will go slow. I have done well so far, I must 
not spoil it by a careless move. ” 

He lay awake a long time that night, thinking. 
He would call upon Alice in the morning, and 
assure her that all was right, and that she need 
not worry. He would try to persuade her to marry 
him at once, and, when the mortgage came due, he 
would produce the money, first having it changed 
at different points for U. S. bank notes. He might 
even make a run up into Canada, or Manitoba, for 
that purpose. He lay and thought until he fell 
asleep. No thought of danger came to him. He 
felt no remorse for what he had done, only su¬ 
preme happiness that he had the means in his 
power of benefiting the woman he loved, for whom 
he had sinned. True, conscience might prick him 
a little in the future, but, so long as there was no 
absolute danger, he thought it would be an easy 
matter to keep conscience in subjection. What is 

this we call conscience, anyhow? Only fear. 


62 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


Show me the man who would not, if he had the 
chance, with absolutely no fear of detection, no 
possibility of discovery, steal a large sum of money. 
If ten million of dollars was lying before you, and 
you could appropriate it without any one ever 
knowing it, would your conscience prevent you 
from taking it? 

I think not. 

So, then, conscience is the fear of detection, the 
feeling which tells you, you must not do certain 
things for fear some one will find you out, and 
you will be punished. 

An easy mind, an assurance of no risk, and con¬ 
science peacefully slumbers, as did John Moore, 
when he at last fell asleep. 


CHAPTER X. 

A LETTER FOR MISS ALICE HUTCHINGS. 

The next morning the postal clerk arose early, 
and, after eating his breakfast, strolled out through 
the town. As he was passing by Bill Brown’s 
saloon, he noticed the bar-tender standing in the 
door. 

“ Hello, Johnnie,” he called, “ come in and take 
somethin’. ” 

Moore replied that he did not care about drink¬ 
ing, and then, wondering whether Brown had said 
anything about the encounter of a week ago, he 
asked: 

“ Where’s Brown? ” 



A LETTER FOR MISS ALICE HUTCHINGS 63 

“ Gone away for a week or so.” 

“ You don’t say so? ” 

“ Yes, gone East somewhere.” 

“ Why, he does not usually neglect his business 
in this manner, does he? ” 

" No. But I cakerlate there is somethin’ impor¬ 
tant on hand. He drew a big sum from the bank, 
and said he’d be gone a week or longer.” 

Moore slowly walked away. Never had he 
known old Bill Brown to leave his saloon for any 
great length of time before. Suspicious of every 
one, he had never trusted his bar-tenders ; but he 
had gone away, to be gone a week or longer, so 
the man had said — had gone East, and taken a 
large sum of money with him. For what purpose? 
The young man puzzled over the matter considera¬ 
bly, but could not arrive at any definite conclusion, 
so he gave it up. 

About ten o’clock he determined to visit Alice, 
and so started out upon the road leading to her 
father’s house. He could perceive no sign of life 
as he drew near the house. The windows were 
hermetically sealed up, and the doors were fas¬ 
tened. He rapped vigorously upon the several 
doors, but received no answer. 

“ That’s funny,” he muttered, desisting at last. 
“ 1 wonder where old John and Alice can be. Per¬ 
haps they’ve gone out for a walk, or something, and 
will be back soon. I’ll wait,” and for two hours he 
waited, but the absent ones did not return. So, 
disappointed and sad, he returned to his lodgings. 

At dark he wended his way toward the house 


64 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


again. As he drew near he saw a light burning 
in the sitting-room. The shutters were open, and 
some one was in the room. His heart gave a 
great leap in his bosom. “ Why did I feel sad and 
melancholy,” he muttered; “ she has a right to go 
away from the house occasionally, I reckon,” and 
he felt all right again. With light footsteps he 
approached the door. He could almost imagine 
the slender form of the girl in the sitting-room, 
could almost fancy he could hear her musical voice. 
He rapped: 

The sound of a shuffling footstep approached the 
door upon the other side, and then it opened, and 
John Hutchings, holding a lamp in his shaking 
hands, stood in the doorway. 

“ Hello, John,” cheerily cried the young man; 
“ how are you? ” 

“Pretty well, Johnnie— just a little upset to¬ 
night, though,” answered Hutchings; “come in,” 
and he stood aside so that Moore could enter. 

The postal clerk entered the house. He was 
familiar with every nook and corner of it, and so 
proceeded to the sitting-room, expecting to find 
Alice there. But he was doomed to disappoint¬ 
ment. She was not there. 

Old John came shuffling along after him. 

He set the lamp upon the table, and then sat 
down in his favorite chair. 

“ Where’s Alice? ” asked Moore. 

“ She ain’t home,” answered the old man. 

“ Gone visiting? ” 

“ Yes.” 


A LETTER FOR MISS ALICE HUTCHINGS 6$ 

The young man felt disappointed. For the sec¬ 
ond time that day he had called to see her and had 
been thwarted. 

He took a chair opposite the old man. Mechan¬ 
ically he filled his pipe and lit it. Then, nursing 
one knee with both hands, he asked: 

“ When will she be back? ” 

“ Can’t say positive,” answered Hutchings, 
evasively. 

Moore sprang to his feet. The old man was, evi¬ 
dently, trying to keep something from him. But 
what? They had always been good friends. Why 
should he treat him in this peculiar manner? 

“ It seems to me as if there was a good deal of 
mystery about all this,” he said at last. 

“ No, not much,” mumbled Hutchings. 

“ You know where Alice is, don’t you? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then, you should certainly know when she will 
return.” 

“ Mebbe she’ll be back to-morrow, mebbe not 
for a month,” remarked Hutchings, slowly filling 
his pipe. 

Moore burst out laughing. 

“ Ah, I see, you are trying to joke with me; 
this is a little scheme of yours to annoy me,” he 
cried. 

The old man looked him straight in the eyes. 

“Why are you so anxious ’bout Alice?” he 
demanded. “ You never used to speak so much 
about her.” 


The Mail Robber 5 


66 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


Moore saw that he had made a mistake in asking 
so many questions about the girl. He had never 
before given the old man any idea that he was at 
all interested in her. He saw he must explain. 

“ Oh, I’m so used to seeing her here when I 
called, that it seemed strange to me that she should 
be absent,” he said. 

Old John shrugged his shoulders. 

" Oh, that’s it, is it? I didn’t know but what 
you was gittin’ interested in Alice. I’m glad it was 
only curiosity that made you ask.” 

“ But you were joking with me, wasn’t you, 
John?” 

“ No; she’s gone away, sure enough.” 

“ Where?” 

The old man looked him in the face. 

“ Now, Johnnie,” he said, slowly, “ I don’t know 
as that consarns you at all. I drove her away this 
mornin’ to a certain place where she wanted to go, 
an’ I’m to go and bring her back when she wants to 
come back. ” 

The old man’s answer rather staggered Moore. 
He could not comprehend it. That the girl had 
gone, he now no longer doubted ; but where had 
she gone, and why? 

He determined to try and pump the old man; 
so, feigning a look of indifference, he leaned back 
in his chair, and, puffing a cloud of smoke from his 
mouth, said : 

“ I suppose you feel lonely to-night, then? ” 

“ Yes. I ain’t used to being alone. ” 

M You’ll be glad when she gets back? ” 


A LETTER FOR MISS ALICE HUTCHINGS 67 

“ You can bet I will. I tell you, the next two 
weeks will seem like as many years to me.” 

One point gained. The girl would return in two 
weeks. 

“ A young girl needs a little recreation occasion¬ 
ally,” he continued. 

" Yes * An old fellow like me ain’t much com¬ 
pany for a young gal.” 

“ Bu * you’re her father, John. She thinks a good 
deal of you.” 

“ She’s a mighty good gal, is Alice,” warmly 
cried the father. “ I tell you, I’ll hate to lose her.” 

" Lose her? ” 

“ Yes. I’ll tell you something, Johnnie, if you’ll 
keep it to yourself.” 

Oh, 111 do that. What is it? ” With difficulty 
he controlled the eagerness in his voice. 

“ Ally's goin' to git married ! ” 

If a bomb had exploded before him, Moore could 
not have been more startled. Married ! The girl 
he loved married ! He could not bring himself to 
believe it. He controlled himself. He must know 
who she expects to marry. 

“ You don’t say so,” he remarked, in a tone of 
surprise, “ and has her absence anything to do 
with it? ” 

“ Yes. She’s gone away to git ready for it. I’d 
tell you all about it, John, but she made me prom¬ 
ise not to tell anybody, and I have told you more 
than I ought to. ” 

Moore sat silent for some time,. He was trying 
to solve this mystery. What could it all mean? 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ Who Is slie -going to marry? ” he asked at last. 

“ I can’t tell you that either, Johnnie. Wait and 
see . Perhaps you know something about it, he 
said, with a sly leer. 

A thought flashed through the young mans 
mind that brought with it happiness. Perhaps he 
was the man she was going to marry. Very likely 
this was some sly little trick which she had adopted 
to hurry on the day, or something to that effect. 
It must be that. She would write him, and tell him 
all about it. He grew radiant. He believed it 
must be so. He blushed, and laughed lightly. 

“ No, I don’t know anything about it,” he said. 

“ Alice did not say anything to me about it. I hope 
she’ll get a good husband, no matter who he is, and 
I honestly wish her much joy. 

He did not stay long after that. He felt easy in 
his mind, and chatted merrily with old John until 
he made up his mind to take his departure. 

He whistled on the way home. No thought that 
the girl was not making ready to marry him entered 
his mind. He was as sure of it as though she had 
herself told him. 

He believed that she would return home in a week 
or so, and would tell him what she had done, and 
then they would be married. 

During the next few days he heard of the efforts 
which were being made to discover the mail robber, 
and he chuckled to himself as he saw that the in¬ 
spectors and detectives were far at sea upon the 
subject. He felt no alarm. There was no cause 


A LETTER FOR MISS ALICE HUTCHINGS 69 

for it. He was safe, and made his usual runs, per¬ 
forming his duties carefully. 

And so the next two weeks passed by. When¬ 
ever he returned to Green River he found that 
Brown was still absent, and that Alice had not yet 
returned. 

He was in the postal car one night, busily en¬ 
gaged in arranging the mail, which was heavy that 
night. His assistant stood near him, also busily 
engaged. 

He was transferring the Green River mail from 
the large pouches in which it had come to Laramie,, 
together with the mail for the many smaller towns 
along the road, to a smaller pouch, when, in run¬ 
ning over some of the letters, his eye, accidentally, 
caught sight of a familiar name upon one of them*. 

The name was 

Miss Alice Hutchings, 

Green River, 

Wyoming. 

And the postmark was Kansas City. 

Curiously he turned it over. Who would have 
written her from Kansas City? He knew every one 
with whom she was acquainted, and knew she had 
no friends in the metropolis of Missouri. He 
expected to see her when he returned, and so made 
up his mind to keep this letter for a while at any 
rate, and peruse its contents. He placed it in his 
pocket unobserved by his assistant, and then con¬ 
tinued his work. When he was alone in his 
lodgings, he drew the letter from his pocket and 
carefully opened it. An exclamation of astonish- 



7o 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


ment, then rage, escaped him. He arose and 
paced the floor rapidly, and then sat down and read 
the letter again. 

This is what he read : 

“Kansas City, Mo., August 6th, 1877. 

« Dear Alice — I shall be in Green River in a day or so. I hope 
you have everything arranged for our marriage. I think it is best to 
have it over with as soon as possible. I have bought a very nice resi¬ 
dence here for you, and the furnishing of it has kept me away from 
home much longer than I anticipated. I will come to the house as 
soon as I get back to Green River. Keep your courage up, my girl 
Don’t allow your heart to dwell on Moore, who has betrayed you. 
Carry out your determination, and show him you are no foolish girl, 
but a woman. 

Yours devotedly, 

William Brown.” 

He threw the letter from him as though it burned 
his fingers. 

“ So she is going to marry Bill Brown,” he mut¬ 
tered, his eyes glistening nervously, his brows con¬ 
tracted. “ He says I have betrayed her. What 
does he mean? By what hellish means has he suc¬ 
ceeded in turning her against me? By God! Ill 
have his life if I meet him. He has turned my love 
from me. By the way he writes, it must be all 
understood between them. I’ll see her first. She 
must explain matters to me, and then let him 
beware. Ill win her yet.” 

He went to the house of John Hutchings early 
the next morning. Alice had not returned yet. 
He turned away moody and silent. He resealed 
the letter when he reached home, and carried it in 
his pocket to Laramie City, where he made his next 


A LETTER FOR MISS ALICE HUTCHINGS ?1 

run. He put it among the Green River mail on the 
return trip, determined that she should receive it, 
and then he would force from her an explanation. 
He called upon old John Hutchings several times. 
Alice had not returned home yet. He began to 
despair of ever seeing her again. Brown was still 
absent. 

One night he called as usual. Old John admitted 
him to the house. 

“ You ought to have come last night,” he said, 
when Moore had become seated. " She was home 
yesterday.” 

“ Alice was home yesterday! ” cried the young 
man, springing to his feet. 

" Yes.” 

“ Where is she now? ” 

“ She got a telegraph dispatch to go on East to 
marry her intended husband, and, I guess, by this 
time, she’s tied up good an’ tight.” 

“ Gone East! ” he gasped. 

“ She went on the i :io train yesterday. Brown 
telegraphed her from Kansas City.” 

With a curse, Moore rushed out of the house. 
He saw how cunningly Brown had laid his plans. 
He understood it all now. He feared to come to 
Green River to be married, and so had sent for the 
girl to come on to Kansas City to join him. 

He sat upon the bed and groaned (for he had 
gone directly home upon leaving Hutchings’ house). 
The girl was lost to him forever; she was the wife 
of another. What could he do? It was impossi¬ 
ble to do anything except to grin and bear it. 


72 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


And he had sinned for her, proved unfaithful to 
his trust, broken the laws of his country. 

But it was too late to grieve over it now. It was 
done. He would not cry over spilt milk, but try 
and make the best of it. 

He sat and thought until morning. When he rose 
from his chair, his mind was made up. He would 
let her go, and trust to fate to bring them together 
again. He still had the money. He would get it 
changed, so he could handle it, and then take a 
long rest, living upon the money as long as it lasted, 
and having a good time. 

Why need he fret over a chit of a girl, he a 
man of thirty. There were as many girls in the 
world as ever. He could easily find another, etc., 
etc. He became restless. His thoughts were wild; 
but, in spite of all his resolution, way down in the 
bottom of his heart a dull, heavy pain existed. He 
could not drive it away, no matter how hard he 
tried. It remained there, and he knew he still 
loved Alice Hutchings. 

How many there are who are just like John 
Moore. 


CHAPTER XL 

AN EFFORT TO CHANGE THE MONEY. 

THREE months after the robbery was reported, 
Moore resigned his position. He said he was tired 
of the service and wanted to go into business. 

There was nothing remarkable in the fact of his 
resignation; only, happening at this particular time, 



AN EFFORT TO CHANGE THE MONEY 73 


it attracted the attention of Inspector Stewart, who 
made special inquiries as to the habits and circum¬ 
stances of the young man. 

Moore’s run was from Laramie City to Green 
River, in Wyoming Territory. On the night the 
missing package passed over that section of the 
Union Pacific, Moore was alone in the postal car. 
This was rather significant. 

A watch was placed on Moore. He became quite 
intimate with a freighter named Harmon after leav¬ 
ing the postal service. Moore and Harmon were 
rarely separated when the latter was in Fremont, 
and the “ shadow ” was instructed to keep them 
continually in view. Should either one leave the 
city, he was to follow and communicate with In¬ 
spector Stewart by cipher dispatch. 

One morning Moore and Harmon walked together 
to the depot. They appeared somewhat excited, 
and Harmon was very fidgety about a small sachel 
he carried. When they boarded the east-bound 
train, he kept his hand on the sachel after placing it 
on a seat, and his eyes wandered to it uneasily 
while he exchanged a few words with Moore, who 
had evidently accompanied him to the cars to bid 
him an affectionate adieu. 

When the train moved off, the “shadow was on 
board. Harmon was bound for St. Louis to buy 
mules for his freighting business. At any rate, 
that was the explanation he gave to the conductor, 
with whom he was acquainted, and who asked him 
a friendly question as to his destination. 

Arriving at St. Louis, Harmon, still carrying the 


74 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


sachel, went to several sales stables, and inquired 
about the prices of horses and mules. He made no 
purchase, however, and in the evening, still followed 
by the “ shadow,” took the train to Chicago. 

Harmon did not engage a berth in the sleeper, 
but settled himself comfortably in the smoking car. 
Here he was approached by a well-known gambler 
and confidence man named Rose, who was attracted 
by his frontier-like airand the solicitude he displayed 
about the small sachel. 

Rose had no difficulty in striking up an acquaint¬ 
ance with the freighter. They smoked and chatted 
through the night, and, when the train stopped in 
Chicago, went off arm-in-arm to a restaurant for 
breakfast. 

The confidence man was delighted with his new¬ 
found friend, and Harmon thought he was in great 
luck in meeting such an amiable and accommodat¬ 
ing companion. They went to the Stock Yards 
after breakfast, and inspected the process of pig kill¬ 
ing, visited several stables in quest of mules for the 
freighter’s business, sampled the liquor in the 
" Store,” where Harmon was introduced to another 
suave and agreeable gentleman, and then adjourned 
to a noted resort for gamblers for dinner. 

The confidence men acted as if they had a pigeon 
to pluck. They were bland and smiling, and plied 
their companion with wine. Harmon seemed over¬ 
joyed with their company, and waxed confidential 
toward the end of the dinner. 

He pointed to the sachel, which he had placed 
carefully on a chair by his side, and whispered 


HOW THE MONEY WAS CHANGED 


75 


something to Mr. Rose, which caused that gentle¬ 
man to elevate his eyebrows in surprise and wink 
significantly at his confederate. 

This communication had the effect of hurrying 
the dinner to a close. Rose called for the check 
and settled the score with an ostentatious air of 
doing the honors. The three left the restaurant, and 
walked quickly to a pawnshop on Clark street. In 
response to a signal from the confidence man, the 
pawnbroker led the way to his private office, and 
the four men disappeared from the view of the 
“ shadow,” who seized this opportunity to rush to 
Inspector Stewart’s office and report progress. 


CHAPTER XII. 

HOW THE MONEY WAS CHANGED. 

WHEN the pawnbroker and his visitors were 
seated in the back office, a very interesting con¬ 
versation took place. It was started by Mr. Rose, 
who said: 

“ My friend Harmon wishes your assistance, Mr. 
-, in a little matter of business.” 

“ I shall be happy to accommodate him,” re¬ 
sponded the pawnbroker, eying the freighter suspi¬ 
ciously. “ What is it—bonds, plate or jewelry ? ” 

“ Neither,” replied Rose, smiling; “ it’s a simple 
case of money changing, which is exactly in your 
line.” 

“ Yes,” said Harmon, “ I have a quantity of 
Canadian bills which I wish to turn into green¬ 
backs.” 




76 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ Why, any bank will do that for you,” re¬ 
marked the pawnbroker, glancing quickly at Rose, 
who gave a peculiar wink. “ There’s no need of 
coming to me for such a purpose.” 

“ But I don’t wish to go to a bank,” said Harmon, 
hesitatingly. 

“ No,” said Rose, with a suggestive glance at the 
money-lender; “ our friend has reasons for conduct¬ 
ing this little affair privately. ” 

“ Do I understand that there is a slight question 
as to the‘ownership of the bills? ” bluntly asked the 
pawnbroker. 

“That’s it, exactly,” quickly answered Rose, 
winking at his confederate, who chimed: 

“ Yes, we want the job done with few questions 
asked.” 

“ Hold on, gentlemen,” cried Harmon, in a tone 
of alarm, “ you have not stated the matter right. 
There is no question as to the ownership of the bills, 
only-” 

“ Only,” interrupted Rose, in a voice in which 
there was more cupidity than suavity now, “ only 
you are afraid to deal openly with a bank yourself,” 

“ Sir!” exclaimed the freighter, indignantly. 

“ Oh! ” said Rose, with a leer, “ you needn’t put 
on any frills now. You have Canadian money in 
your possession under suspicious circumstances, 

I don’t say it doesn’t belong to you, but its d- 

funny, to say the least, that you should seek assist¬ 
ance and offer a percentage for its exchange.” 

“ But, gentlemen-” 

The freighter, who seemed to realize by this time 




HOW THE MONEY WAS CHANGED 


11 


that he was caught in a trap, was not allowed to 
finish his protest. Rose’s confederate staggered 
him with the remark: 

“ We don’t insinuate that you stole the money; 
oh, no! But the facts are against you.” 

“ Does the gentleman take my place for a fence,” 
cried the pawnbroker, indignantly. “ Why, I’ve 
half a mind to hand you over to the police.” 

Harmon turned pale, and looked appealingly at 
his companions. Rose saw the man was scared, 
and followed up the attack in another strain. 

“ There’s no occasion for a rumpus,” he said to 
the pawnbroker. “ We might as well look the 
matter squarely in the face. Mr. Harmon wants 
the money changed and is willing to pay liberally 
for the accommodation. Besides, there’s no proof 
that the money is stolen. He has brought it from 
Nebraska, and it will be a pity for him to take it 
back unchanged.” 

“ A great pity,” echoed the confederate. 

“ How much have you? ” asked the pawnbroker. 

“ Five thousand dollars,” replied Harmon. 

“ That’s a pretty neat sum,” said the pawnbroker. 
“ It will net $5,400 in greenbacks at the present 
rate of exchange. What do you propose to allow for 
this service? ” 

" You can keep the $400,” said the freighter, 
eagerly; “ that will pay you for your trouble.” 

“ Not much,” contemptuously remarked the 
money lender. 

“ Not much! ” echoed Rose and his companion. 


78 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ Well,” said Harmon, timorously, “ name your 
figure.” 

“ There’s four of us,” Rose said, decisively. 
“We’ll make an even divy; that’ll be $1,350 
apiece.” 

“ Why, that is outrageous! ” cried Harmon, ex¬ 
citedly. “Besides, I have to take $2,500 back to 
my friend in Nebraska, who gave me the money to 
exchange. ” 

“ Oh, well,” said Rose, “if you want to be a hog, 
now that we’ve found you out, perhaps it will,be as 
well to drop all dickering and give the fly cops a 
hint you are here.” 

The freighter realized .that he was cornered. 
For some reason he was afraid to quarrel with the 
men, and agreed to the proposition. 

He opened the sachel, and produced $5,000 in 
bills of the Bank of Montreal. The pawnbroker 
examined the money, and pronounced it genuine. 
It was decided that he should go to the bank, ex¬ 
change it for greenbacks, and return and divide it. 
Before starting, Rcee picked out a $5 bill and 
handed it to the freighter, with the remark : 

“ Keep that for luck ! ” 

“ What did you give him that for?” asked the 
pawnbroker, when Rose accompanied him into the 
shop. 

“ He may need it,” said the confidence man, 
grimly. 

“ Ah! I see,” said the pawnbroker, with a merry 
chuckle. “ He’ll want enough for lodgings and 
breakfast. ” 


THE MEETING 


79 


With this significant remark, the money-lender 
left the shop to convert the bills into United States 
money, and Rose went back to the private office to 
keep the now tired and disconsolate freighter com¬ 
pany until he returned. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE MEETING. 

Naturally Moore felt anxious as to the success 
of Harmon’s mission. He frequented the telegraph 
office almost continually, as though he expected a 
message from his tool and confederate, but none 
came, and, while Lyman Harmon was in the hands 
of the Philistines in Chicago, Moore was anxiously 
awaiting some news from him, either good or bad. 

He was well known in Fremont, Nebraska, hav¬ 
ing lived there and in Riverdale, six miles east of 
Fremont, for many years. People liked him; his 
e ^sy, good-natured way had made him many 
friends, and, besides, he was a hard-working local 
politician, and was well known for the power and 
influence he wielded upon the occasion of election 
of local officers. 

A few days passed by. He had not heard from 
Harmon, although he fairly haunted the telegraph 
and post offices. He could always be seen at the 
latter place at every mail which came from the 
East, and each time he turned away disappointed. 

" Ifheshould be unsuccessful,” he muttered, as 
he turned from the window one day at about dusk. 



8o 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


This thought gave him much uneasiness. Now, 
the fear of detection aroused conscience to its 
work, and remorse troubled him greatly. He had 
sinned for a woman’s sake, and had been cast off 
without one word of explanation, by her for whom 
he would have sacrificed almost life itself to benefit. 

The beautiful face of the girl appeared to him 
often in his thoughts and dreams, and, although he 
cursed her for her action, which he believed had 
been without cause, still the same old feeling of 
love dwelt in his heart. He slowly walked out of 
the post-office; many people were coming and go¬ 
ing— some expectant, walking up to the window 
at the general delivery, then turning happy and 
joyous, or sad and disappointed, as the case hap¬ 
pened, if they received a missive from some absent 
loved one, or failed to hear from the absent one; 
others bustling in receiving their business letters 
and papers, as a matter of course, and stopping to 
chat with friends or acquaintances; young girls read¬ 
ing their first letter from a fond lover; aged parents 
expecting news from their children, perhaps far 
away. He saw the bustling crowd pass him by 
without noticing them; his mind was far away, 
thinking of other things. A girl’s beautiful face, 
the malicious, ugly countenance of a man; those 
were the only faces he saw in his thoughts, the 
only living creatures for whom he had any feeling 
whatever—for one love, the other its opposite, 
hate. And, oh, how the bitter feeling of never- 
dying hatred eat at his heart-strings, throbbing, 
beating, coursing through his veins as though a 


THE MEETING 


8l 


part of his very self—hatred for the venomous, 
deformed old wretch who had outwitted him, by 
some means unknown to him even yet. He had 
sworn to get even with Bill Brown, as he expressed 
it, and woe betide the old villain if they ever 
chanced to meet. 

He was thinking of these two, and of all that 
he had been obliged to undergo during the last few 
months, as he walked slowly along the street; his 
mind was intent upon his thoughts, and he did not 
see the form of a girl gliding toward him. He 
never saw her until she stood before him, and gave 
utterance to a slight cry of alarm ; then he came to 
himself, then he saw her, and, with a white face, 
staggered back and cried out the one word, “ Alice!” 
Then he seized her by one slender wrist, and held 
her as if he feared that she would escape from him. 

“ My God ! is it you ! ” he hoarsely cried. 

“ Johnnie,’’ she murmured, speaking for the first 
time. “ I did not expect to see you,” she contin¬ 
ued, stammering. 

“ Perhaps did not want to,” he said, bitterly. 

She remained silent for a moment, then said : 

“ I am married, you know.” 

He uttered a hoarse curse. “ I know. I know 
only too well. Married without giving me one 
word of explanation, sneaking off as if fearful of 
seeing me. Oh, why did you do this, Alice !” 

His voice, which had started in a tone hoarse and 
angry, ended in a wail. 

She trembled slightly. 

The Mail Robber 6 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


82 - 


“ I had sufficient reasons for doing as I did,” she 
reioined. “ You should know. 

He was about to make some hasty, angry reply, 
when he suddenly bethought him that they were 
standing upon the street. People passing by would 
observe them in conversation, and think it strange. 

“ I must see you alone,” he said, after a moment s 
thought. “ I am completely bewildered at your 
words. I do not understand you. Will you grant 
me the privilege of a private interview? or are you 
afraid of me?” muttering the last with a bitter 
smile. 

“ I am not afraid of you, Johnnie,” she replied. 
“ I, too, would like to see you. I am stopping at 
the Union House. Come there.” 

“ How soon? ” 

“ In thirty minutes or an hour. I am alone here. 
My husband is in Kansas City. I am on my way 
home to visit my father.” 

She spoke without one trace of emotion of any 
kind; just as though she had met him every day 
since they had parted that night. 

“ I will be there in an hour,” he said, and left 
her. 

She continued on her way to the post-office. She 
would never have stopped over in Fremont if she 
had known he was there. She thought he lived in 
Riverdale. 

In an hour Moore called at the hotel, and sent his 
card up to Mrs. Brown, for so she was registered. 
She met him in the parlor. 

“ You are punctual,” she murmured. 


THE MEETING 


S3 


“ I am anxious to have this matter explained,” 
he responded. 

“ Come to my room,” she said; “ we can talk 
with greater freedom there; it is upon this floor.” 

He silently followed her out of the parlor along 
the hall to her room. She opened the door and 
entered; he followed her; then she locked the door. 

“ I have dreaded the idea of meeting you,” she 
began. 

“ Say, rather, you were ashamed to meet me 
after your treacherous action,” he retorted. 

She turned red. 

“ I have not been guilty of treachery,” she said; 
" I did as I thought best.” 

He sprang toward her; she never stirred. 

“ Thought best,” he said sharply. “ Then, you 
considered the marriage to that deformed, murder¬ 
ing villain better than a marriage to me? ” 

“ I could not marry you, Johnnie,” she said 
quietly. “ You know you could not make me your 
wife without committing a crime.” 

A look of dazed surprise crossed his face. 

“ Crime,” he muttered; “ I don’t understand 
you.” 

She looked him steadily in the eye. 

“ John Moore, you know you do understand me; 
you know all; you know that you never intended 
making me your wife.” 

He interrupted her. 

“ As God is my judge,” he began. 

She stopped him with a gesture. 

“ Do not perjure yourself, Johnnie,” she said. 


84 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


He turned upon her quickly. He took her hand, 
and led her to a sofa, and then sat down beside 
her. 

“ Alice,” he said, firmly, “ you have just made an 
assertion which is strange to me; one that I cannot 
understand at all. Do you remember what I prom¬ 
ised you the last night we met? ” 

“ I don’t quite remember.” 

“ Oh, you don’t? Well, I will refresh your mem¬ 
ory. I swore that I would free your father from his 
debt and make you my wife.” 

“ I remember,” she murmured. 

" Oh, you do remember now. I did not speak 
lightly; I meant every word that I said. I began 
to plan how to keep my word good. Fortune fa¬ 
vored me. In a few days I had the five thousand 
dollars.” 

“ You had the money to save my father? ” 

14 Yes.” 

44 Where did you get it?” 

44 I stole it,” firmly. 

She gave utterance to a slight cry. 

44 Yes; I stole it,” he continued. 44 Stole it from 
the mail. It was my first crime, and I committed 
it for your sake; why? because I loved you. When 
I came to tell you that I had the means in my 
power of freeing your father from his bondage of 
debt, I found you had left him. In a short time I 
discovered that you were to be married to Brown. 
Think of it, woman! The sin had been committed. 
I had done it for your sake, and you throw me over 
without even a word. Now you say I never 


THE MEETING 


85 


intended to marry you! Does it look reasonable ? ” 
She sat silent, staring at the floor; finally she 
looked up, and said: 

“ I never knew this before; I believe it is the 
truth. Ah! if I had only known.” 

“ You did not want to know,” he retorted, bit¬ 
terly. “ You allowed yourself to be governed 
entirely by Bill Brown, knowing him to be a 
cowardly, would-be murderer; still, you seemed to 
have more faith in him than in me. I never could 
understand this. Why did you do it, Alice? Why 
did you break my heart? ” 

The strong voice almost sobbed. She seemed 
affected also. 

“You shall know, Johnnie,” she finally said, 
quickly, “ I will show you why I acted as I did. 
If you can explain the matter to me, then I shall 
understand matters. You will not blame me when 
you know all. If ever a girl had cause to act as I 
have done, surely I am that one. ” 

She arose and walked to the bed, where her 
hand-sachel was lying. He sat and watched her, 
never taking his eyes from her. She opened the 
sachel and took a small parcel from it — several 
articles wrapped up in a white handkerchief. She 
brought the parcel to him. 

“ Here,” she began, “ I have the cause of all my 
joy and all my sorrow. He who taught me how to 
love, and the object that closed my heart against 
the tender feeling. See.” 

She had unwrapped the handkerchief, and he 
saw the contents. First, a faded picture of him- 


86 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


self. Second, a half-sheet of note-paper, written 
upon — the one-half of a letter. 

“ This is the letter, upon the back of which Bill 
Brown wrote the statement upon the night of the 
duel,” she said. “ You told me of it yourself. I 
know it came from your pocket. Take it, explain 
it, and, if you, can satisfy me that you have not been 
treacherous and deceitful to me, then, husband or 
no husband, I am yours forever. I mean it.” 

He tried to kiss her hand, but she refused him. 

“ If I am not satisfied with your explanation, then 
we must part, and never meet again,’ she added. 

He bowed his head and took the letter. As his 
eyes glanced over the written words, a strange light 
came to them. He read every line, and, then^ 
throwing the letter down, he turned to her: 

“ I do not blame you,” he said, in a thick tone. 
“ I would have acted in the same manner if I had 
been in your place. This letter is sufficient to 
shake the faith of almost any one, particularly when 
used as a weapon by an enemy. I don’t blame 
you, Alice.” 

“ Did your wife write that letter to you? ” she 
demanded. 

He cleared his throat in a nervous manner, and 
said : 

“ Listen. I will explain this matter. The story 
is rather long, and will take up some time, but you 
shall know it all.” 


THE ARREST OF HARMON 


87 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE ARREST OF HARMON. 

As SOON as he received the report of the “ shad- 
ow,” Inspector Stewart sent two men to watch 
the pawnbroker’s place. He, of course, knew 
nothing as to what transpired in the back room. 
Nothing had developed thus far within the knowl¬ 
edge of the postoffice agent to warrant the arrest 
of the Nebraskan. The man had been tracked to 
Chicago mainly on account of his intimacy with 
Moore. 

His watchful care of the small sachei was nothing 
in itself, neither was his visit to the pawnbroker’s 
unsually suspicious ; but Mr. Stewart had a pre¬ 
sentiment that everything was not straight with 
the freighter, and he instructed the deputies not 
to lose sight of the man and his companions. 

The “ shadows ” were not long in position near 
the pawnbroker’s store, when the proprietor came 
out on his errand to the bank. One of the agents 
followed him ; the other remained to watch Harmon 
and the confidence men. 

The pawnbroker went direct to the Bank of 
Montreal, corner of La Salle and Madison streets. 

“ I would like to get greenbacks for some of your 
bills,” he said to the cashier. 

“ Very good,” rejoined the cashier; “ what is the 
amount? ” 

41 Thirty-five hundred dollars,” replied the pawn- 


88 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


broker, producing several rolls from his breast 
pocket. 

Now, Inspector Stewart had warned the bank 
officials to be on the lookout for persons present¬ 
ing any large quantity of their bills, and the sus¬ 
picions of the cashier, who knew the pawnbroker, 
were aroused at once. 

“ All right,” he remarked ; “ count your money, 
and I will get you the greenbacks,” and then, under 
the pretense of going to the vault, he stepped into 
the president’s room and sent a messenger to inform 
Mr. Stewart of what was going on. 

Stewart’s deputy, however, was prepared to act 
as soon as he saw the pawnbroker arrange the rolls 
of bills. He grabbed the money with one hand, 
and the pawnbroker with the other, and said : 

“ I’ll trouble you to accompany me to the Post- 
office, Mr. -” 

“ What for ? ” asked the astonished pawnbroker. 

“ To account for your possession of this money.’" 

“ Well, I can easily do that,” he said, and, pro¬ 
testing loudly against the indignity of his arrest, 
reluctantly allowed himself to be led to the In¬ 
spector’s office. He changed his mind about ex¬ 
plaining the matter during the journey, and, when 
Stewart asked where he got the money, replied 
curtly: 

“ Probably you can find out. I don’t see that 
it’s any of your business, anyhow, and I want to 
know by what authority I am brought here.” 

“ You are brought here,” said Mr. Stewart, 


THE ARREST OF HARMON 89 

sternly, “ for having in your possession money 
stolen from the United States mails.” 

The pawnbroker’s face fell, and he said, dog¬ 
gedly : 

“ Your assertion is not proof. I shall say no 
more until I consult with my lawyer.” 

“ Have you any more of this money? ” asked the 
Inspector. 

“ No,” was the gruff reply. 

Ignoring this denial, Stewart searched the pawn¬ 
broker, and found $1,495 in the same bills loose in 
his coat-tail pockets, making $4,995 in all. 

Meanwhile Harmon and his companions were 
arrested in the pawnshop. The five dollar bill which 
Rose had given him out of the pile “ for luck” was 
all the Canadian money in his possession. 

The men were taken before Commissioner Hoyne, 
and the pawnbroker, who still preserved a dogged 
silence as to his possession of the money, was 
placed under $10,000 bail. His friend M. C. 
McDonald heard of his trouble and went on his 
bond. Inspector Stewart took charge of the 
freighter, thoroughly convinced that Harmon held 
the key to the mystery of the rifled registered 
package which had given the Postoffice Depart¬ 
ment so much concern. 


go 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


CHAPTER XV. 

HARMON CONFESSES. 

FOR several hours Harmon refused to talk on 
the subject of the stolen money. Stewart knew 
the man had no hand in the actual theft. The 
freighter, it had been ascertained, was on an ex¬ 
pedition to the Black Hills at the time the package 
was rifled. He could not have had the remotest 
connection with the robbery. 

But how came he in possession of the money, 
and why adopt this roundabout way of exchanging 
it if he were entirely innocent? His intimacy with 
Moore was known. That gentleman attended him 
to the cars at Fremont and seemed equally solici¬ 
tous about the small sachel, the shadow reported, 
as the freighter himself. 

Inspector Stewart was confident that Moore was 
the thief, and he used every exertion to secure 
evidence against him. 

“ Mr. Harmon,” he said, to his prisoner, after 
trying for hours to elicit a confession, “you are 
in a bad scrape. The money you brought from 
Fremont was stolen from the mails. The Bank of 
Montreal and officers of the Canadian Government 
can prove that, and, unless you can clear yourself, 
you will go to the penitentiary. You have a wife 
and family, and have always been looked upon as 
a respectable citizen. The disgrace will be terrible, 
and you’ll never stand up again. We know that 
you got this money from Moore; why not speak 



HARMON CONFESSES 


91 


up like a man, and clear yourself and save your 
family from disgrace ? ” 

Thus appealed to, Harmon made a clean breast 
of his connection with the affair. 

“ Mr. Stewart,” said he, “ I had not the slight¬ 
est idea that the money was stolen from the mails. 
Moore told me he won it from a gambler im Green 
River, and that he was suspicious that all was not 
right, as the man seemed pleased to lose it. He 
said he buried it for several months, and, on hear¬ 
ing that I was going to St. Louis to buy mules, he 
thought it a good opportunity to exchange the 
bills.” 

“ What inducement did he offer for the service?” 
asked the inspector. 

“ He said I could keep half the amount re¬ 
ceived.” 

“ Didn’t that munificent offer awaken your 
suspicions ? ” 

“ Well, I thought there was something wrong; 
but $2,500 was a tempting proposal, and I agreed 
to undertake the exchange. I suppose, if I had 
had pluck enough to go to the bank myself, all 
this trouble would have been avoided.” 

“ Not by any means,” said Mr. Stewart. “ You 
were shadowed from the moment you left Fre¬ 
mont, and would have been arrested anyhow. 
What were you doing with those confidence 
men ? ” 

“ I thought they were high-toned gentlemen at 
first,” responded Harmon, sighing as he recalled 


92 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


the scene in the pawnbroker’s private office, “but 
they were wolves in sheep’s clothing.” 

Realizing that the retention of his good name 
and standing in the community depended a great 
deal on the good offices of Inspector Stewart, 
the freighter was anxious now to do everything 
in his power to aid the'cause of justice. He con¬ 
sented to go West, and assist in wringing a confes¬ 
sion from Moore. 

It was Saturday afternoon when the arrests 
were made, and there was no train to Omaha 
that evening. If news of the freighter’s difficulty 
reach Fremont, Moore would either jump the 
town or concoct some story to clear ^is skirts of 
the crime, and probably fasten the whole guilt 
on Harmon. 

To avoid this contingency, Mr. Stewart wired 
Special Agent Furay at Omaha, to take a private 
conveyance to Fremont and arrest Moore before 
he could take any steps to evade the consequences 
or complicate matters. Reply came that Mr. Fu¬ 
ray was absent on business, and Inspector Stewart 
lost no time in preventing news of Harmon’s arrest 
spreading to Nebraska. The city newspapers 
agreed to suppress the item tor twenty-four hours 
in the interest of justice, and the affable agent of 
the Western Associated Press performed a like 
favor. 


THE LETTER EXPLAINED 


93 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE LETTER EXPLAINED. 

ALICE Hutchings, or rather Alice Brown, felt 
her heart sink with a feeling of dread, as she saw 
Moore’s disturbed manner, and noticed his hesita¬ 
tion. 

“ It must be true,” she thought; but she con¬ 
trolled herself, and waited for him to speak. 

“ I would not say anything about this sad affair, 
if it was not necessary to clear myself in your eyes, ” 
he began. “ The story is a sad one, and, fortu¬ 
nately, I can easily prove its truth. In the first 
place, you must know that I once had a very dear 
friend — John Purcell by name; we were like broth¬ 
ers, occupied the same room and shared each 
other’s confidence. John made up his mind at last 
to marry. He knew a beautiful young girl living 
in Riverdale, and so he left me and married her, 
and for a few years was comparatively happy. But, 
like many other men, John had his failings. He 
grew fond of the society of other women, and took 
to drink. God knows his wife gave him no cause 
for acting as he did, but he seemed possessed of an 
evil spirit, and his scenes of reckless debauchery 
and dissipation alarmed me. This was kept up for 
several years. At last his wife found him out. 
She in some way discovered all. 

“ It is unnecessary to state what followed. She 
was a woman of spirit, and the scene which followed 
the discovery was one which has often taken place 


94 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


before in many households. John promised to do 
better, and peace was finally patched up between 
the husband and wife. But the man was weak, he 
could not resist temptation, and so he drifted off 
again. For the second time his wife came to know 
of his actions, and she upbraided him bitterly, and 
threatened to leave him. He told me of it. I tried 
to show him how wrong he was, but my words had 
but little effect upon him. Things went from bad 
to worse, and, finally, in the heat of passion, he 
struck his wife, and left her and his two beautiful 
children. I neglected to state that he was employed 
by the Union Pacific Railroad Company, and still 
shared my room when he was out on a “ run.” He 
told me what he had done, and declared that he 
would never return to her again. He showed no 
feeling of remorse for what he had done, claiming 
that she was in the wrong, saying that her bitter 
words had aroused his anger. No effort of mine 
could show him that he was wrong, and the man 
drifted away from his family, who were left desti¬ 
tute. I helped the poor woman as much as I could, 
giving her money occasionally, with which to pro¬ 
cure the necessaries of life. She regretted her 
action, and wrote him several letters, which he 
either never received or refused to answer. She 
told me of this, and finally wrote a letter which she 
gave me to deliver to him. I promised her that he 
should have it, and put it in my pocket. Purcell 
was running as a brakeman upon a freight. I 
knew that I would see him when I arrived at Green 
River. I never saw the poor fellow alive. He was 


THE LETTER EXPLAINED 


95 


killed before I arrived at the point where I expected 
to meet him, being beheaded while the train was 
passing under a low bridge, being under the influ¬ 
ence of liquor while riding on top of one of the 
cars. You will probably remember this, as it 
occurred about the 5th or 6th of July.” 

“ I remember the accident,” she murmured; “ the 
news reached the wife; it killed her, poor woman, 
and the two children were left orphans. They 
were taken by his mother, and are now with them; 
you can understand the rest. The letter which I 
had in my pocket was the last appeal sent by the 
wife to her erring husband. Without thought, I 
took it from my pocket that night, and tore it in 
two, giving one-half to Brown, keeping the other. 
It was the only letter I had, in fact, the only piece 
of paper which I had about me at that time. Do 
you believe me? ” 

“ Have you the other half of that letter? ” she 
asked. 

“ Yes; it is in my pocket at this very moment. 
Would you like to see it? ” 

She acquiesced. 

He produced the half of the letter and gave it to 
her. 

She compared the two, and found that he had 
spoken truly. 

For a long time she sat gazing at the letter. If 
she had only waited, how much misery she would 
have saved herself. Now she wasTound to a man 
she could never love, without stopping to investi¬ 
gate. She had made a step which could never be 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


9 6 

recalled. It seemed so positive; the proof was so 
strong. He sat watching her. 

“ You understand all now? ” he murmured. 

" Yes.” 

“ You see that you have ruined all my bright 
prospects and sacrificed your own happiness, 
simply because you did not stop to think? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Ah, Alice! If you had only waited! ” 

She threw herself in his arms; sobs convulsed 
her frame. 

“ Forgive me, Johnnie,” she moaned. “ It 
seemed so strong against you.” 

He kissed her lips. 

“ You are not happy? ” he asked. 

“ Happy!” she replied. “ God knows my life is 
so full of misery that death sometimes seems prefer¬ 
able to me than the continuance of such an exist¬ 
ence. ” 

“What shall you do? ” 

“ Leave the wretch whom the law declares my 
husband. You forgive me, Johnnie? ” eagerly. 

“ Freely. I always thought you were influenced 
in some way by that man. ” 

“You will take me, Johnnie? ” she whispered. 

“Take you! That I will. I have only been 
waiting for you to ask me.” 

“ The world may condemn me,” she murmured, 
“ but I care nothing for that. Your marriage 
means the union of souls, and I love you.” 

He rained kisses upon her lips; he clasped her 
tightly in his arms. They sat and arranged a happy 


THE LETTER EXPLAINED 


9 7 


future. He told her what he had done with the 
money, and said that, when Harmon returned, they 
would leave Fremont together. She determined 
never to return to Brown again. She suggested, 
finally, the advisability of her continuing her jour¬ 
ney to Green River to see her father, who was 
weaker and more helpless than ever. He acqui¬ 
esced, and it was understood that he was to meet 
her in Green River in a day or so, and then they 
were to leave that section of the country together, 
never to return. With this understanding, they 
parted. 

Before going home, Moore concluded to go to 
the telegraph office. Harmon’s son was the oper¬ 
ator, and he looked up as Moore entered, and said: 

“ Just got a message from pap. ” 

“ Did you? Where is it? ” eagerly. 

“ I can’t show it to you just now; it’s in my other 
coat pocket. It was sent from Omaha; I can tell 
you what it says. He wants me to bring his 
blankets down to train No. 3; he is going through 
to Sydney; he wants to see you.” 

“ All right, I’ll be there;” and, with alight step, 
Moore left the office. 

“ Harmon must have been successful,” he 
thought, on his way home. “ I’ll be there to meet 
him. ” 

He slept easier that night than he had in many 
months. 


The Mail Robber 


98 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A DESPERATE BATTLE. 


The arrest of the pawnbroker had created a hub¬ 
bub around “The Store.” Several of his friends 
vowed vengeance against the energetic Inspector, 
and threatened to relieve him, not only of his 
Nebraskan prisoner, but the money he had secured 
by the arrest. As a precaution against malicious 
interference, Stewart took a room for Harmon and 
himself at Burke’s Hotel, on Madison street, that 
night. 

The room was on the third floor, near the bag¬ 
gage elevator, having two windows which overlooked 
the street. Harmon seemed nervous and distraught, 
and Stewart found him anything but a cheerful com¬ 
panion. The freighter seemed to fear that he would 
be incarcerated, and, to a man who has never seen 
the inside of a prison cell, there is something horri¬ 
ble in such a thought. The inspector assured him 
that all would be right; that he knew him to be 
innocent, and that Moore alone should suffer; but 
Harmon did not seem to derive much comfort from 
Stewart’s assurance; he did not have much faith in 
the worthy inspector. 

They both retired early. They had the long trip 
to make in the morning, and they needed all the 
rest they could get. Harmon was tired out. The 
experiences he had passed through during the last 
few days had unnerved him entirely, and, when he 
stretched himself out on the bed to sleep, he felt as 


A DESPERATE BATTLE 


99 




sore and stiff as though he had been beaten with 
clubs, but he finally fell asleep. After tossing about 
for an hour, Inspector Stewart began to feel sleepy, 
and he was about to turn over on his side and com¬ 
pose himself to slumber, when a suspicious noise 
aroused him to complete wakefulness. The noise 
came from the adjoining room, and seemed to be 
the sound of several gruff, deep-toned voices 
engaged in conversation. 

The hour was late, and the fact of the occupants 
of a room in a first-class hotel making so much 
noise at that hour, caused a feeling of surprise to 
enter Stewart’s mind. He carefully got out of bed 
and slipped on his pantaloons. Harmon was sleep¬ 
ing soundly, and he did not awaken him. He 
crept quietly to the window, and listened. He 
could hear the murmur of men’s voices ; threaten¬ 
ing voices they seemed to be, but could not distin¬ 
guish anything that was being said. 

“ I don’t half like this,” he said to himself. 
“ There’s some pretty tough characters in the city 
at the present time, and some of them have threat¬ 
ened to give me trouble. ” 

He turned from the window, and, taking up his 
revolver, examined it. It was loaded in every 
chamber. In addition to the “ gun,” the inspector 
had one of those weapons known as a “ life pre¬ 
server,” consisting of a piece of lead covered with 
leather and secured at the end of a thong — a for¬ 
midable weapon in the hands of a desperate man 
at close quarters. 


100 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ If there is any trouble, I’ll have a hand in it,” 
muttered the brave officer. 

The voice suddenly died out; all became as 
the grave. Suddenly the keen ears of the 
inspector detected the sound of footsteps in the 
hall outside, and at the same moment he heard 
some one at his window trying to raise the sash. 
Outside his window was the landing of the fire 
escape, and the idea flashed through his mind that 
some one was on the landing trying to enter his 
room. The window was protected by inside blinds, 
and so no one outside could see into the room. 

A grim smile came to Stewart’s lips, and he 
arose from his chair and noiselessly approached the 
window. He had put his weapon in his pocket, 
and merely grasped the back of a chair. He list¬ 
ened; there was no mistake about it; some one 
was trying to raise the window. 

He stood waiting. He had not long to wait, for 
soon the creaking sound of the sash and the dull 
thump of the weights, as they rolled down in their 
places, told him that the window was open. He 
felt the cold blast of night air as it swept into the 
room through the aperture. He grasped the chair 
firmly. A slight noise caused him to turn. Har¬ 
mon was sitting up in bed, with a startled look 
upon his face. Stewart made a movement toward 
the door of the room and also a gesture to remain 
silent, and then resumed his former position. A 
slight crash, and the inside shutters flew open with 
a bang, and two men leaped into the room. 

Up over his head Stewart swung the heavy chair. 


A DESPERATE BATTLE 


IOI 




Crash, it descended upon the head of the fore¬ 
most of the intruders, knocking him senseless. 
The other gave utterance to a cry, and, before the 
Inspector or Harmon could think, the door of the 
room flew open, and six men entered. 

Stewart recognized two of them; they were the 
leaders of the notorious Garrity band. 

“What do you want here?” demanded the 
offlcer. 

“ Want to get even with you. You-,” 

answered the leader. 

“ Even for what? ” 

“ For what? I guess you know. You have got 
Rose in ‘ quay/ and sent up another of the boys. 
We want you to give up your prisoner and divide 
the dust you’ve got between us, or we’ll fix you so 
you won’t testify against Rose.” 

Stewart smiled grimly. 

“ You don’t want much,” he said. 

“ No. We want what we want, and we’ll get it.” 

“ By God, I’ll give you a tussle for it ! ” cried 
Stewart, and, without further parley, he sprang for 
the nearest man. He lay senseless at his feet from 
the effects of a blow from the “ billy. ” Harmon did 
not fight against him, but gave him all the assist¬ 
ance he could. Soon the fight became decidedly 
lively; Stewart had received several blows, but they 
were not serious. He had laid out three of the 
gang, and was fighting fiercely with the remainder. 

Harmon pressed the electric button which com¬ 
municated with the lower portion of the house, and 
soon the sound of hurrying footsteps was heard. 


102 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


Stewart had Dave Garrity cornered, and was trying 
to overpower him when Tim Garrity sprang to his 
brother’s assistance, and struck the inspector a blow 
upon the head that floored him. The two despe¬ 
radoes then left the room, and ran toward the ele¬ 
vator. Stewart lay unconscious upon the floor; 
the remaining outlaws hurriedly removed their 
recovering companion, and made good their escape 
by the means of the fire-escape and hallway. 

As the Garrity boys reached the elevator shaft, 
they found the elevator standing still. To spring 
upon it was the work of a moment, and the next 
they were descending toward the ground floor as 
rapidly as it was possible to go. They all made 
good their escape. The man who had answered 
Harmon’s summons went to work to restore the 
inspector to consciousness, and, before long, he 
was all right, and breathing naturally. He slept 
well the remainder of the night. The battle had 
been a desperate one, but he had come out vic¬ 
torious, and was entirely satisfied. 

On Sunday morning Inspector Stewart and 
Deputies Spurling and Seybolt left with their 
prisoner for Omaha, where they arrived next day. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

CAPTURED. 

It was necessary to take Moore by surprise, and, 
while on the train, Stewart “ put up a job ” on the 
ex-postal clerk. Harmon’s son was a telegraph 



CAPTURED 


103 


operator at Fremont, and it was fortunate that 
nothing had been sent west of Omaha concerning 
the arrest, as the young man would assuredly have 
heard of it. 

The following dispatch was sent to the telegraph 
operator from Omaha : 

Bring my blankets to depot, as I go west on train No. 3 to Sidney. 
Tell John Moore to come to depot as I want to see him. 

Lyman Harmon. 

The freighter had been instructed to upbraid 
Moore for inveigling him into the affair, and not to 
be surprised at anything Stewart or his deputies 
might say. 

At Riverdale, six miles east of Fremont, the east 
and west bound trains meet. So anxious was 
Moore to learn the result of Harmon’s mission that 
he came to Riverside and joined the freighter on 
the west-bound train. He did not notice the post- 
office agents, who watched his movements from the 
rear end of the car. 

“ Johnny,” said Harmon, “ I wasn’t able to ne¬ 
gotiate the exchange, and have brought the money 
back. Here it is.” 

He offered Moore a parcel, but the young man 
became suspicious at once, and refused to take it. 

Spurling stepped up at this juncture, and said : 

"Mr. Moore, you are my prisoner.” 

The ex-postal clerk indignantly asked what the 
charge was. 

“ Stealing money from the mails,” said the 
deputy; “ we’ve got Harmon, and we have the 
deadwood on you.” 


104 


THE MAIL KOBBER 


“I know nothing about it,” responded Moore, 
and lapsed into moody silence as Stewart and Sey- 
bolt came up and began to talk of the fugitive’s 
confession. 

As previously arranged, Stewart then turned the 
batteries on Harmon, charging him with having 
concocted an incredible story. 

“ I am astonished,” said the Inspector, in a well- 
simulated tone of indignation, “that a man of your 
age and intelligence should undertake to make any 
sane person believe you are innocent. You knew 
this money was stolen from the mails, and I think 
you have deliberately lied as to Moore’s connection 
with the affair. It will go hard with you, and your 
family will be forever disgraced. But it serves you 
right for trying to locate the blame on an innocent 
man. ” 

Harmon buried his face in his handkerchief, and 
pretended to cry. 

“My God, Mr. Stewart,” he moaned, “I have 
told you the truth. Moore knows I have told you 
the truth. Johnny, for God’s sake, own up and 
clear me. Think of my family, Johnny, and save 
me.” 

This piteous appeal wrought on Moore’s feel¬ 
ings. 

“ Harmon is telling the truth,” he cried ; “ he 
knows nothing about this matter but what I told 
him.” 

“ Then, you did give him the money to ex¬ 
change ?” asked Stewart, delighted with the suc¬ 
cess of the ruse. 


CAPTURED 


105 


“ Yes,” replied the young man, excitedly ; “ I 
did. Harmon is innocent of any wrong-doing, 
and so am I, as far as that is concerned.” And 
he started in to explain how he came in posses¬ 
sion of the money, claiming that he won it from 
a gambler at Green River. He persisted in this 
story, and refused to accompany the officers, who 
wished to take him into Wyoming Territory, where 
they suspected the crime was committed, and 
where it was desirable he should be tried for rob¬ 
bing the mails. 

“Very good,” said Stewart, “as you are so 
obstinate, we will leave the train in Nebraska and 
keep you until the proper papers arrive.” 

But this did not suit the young man, either, and, 
after a little further demur, he elected to stand his 
chances, and accompanied the postoffice agents to 
Cheyenne, where he was formally charged with 
the crime and held under $10,000 bail. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE NEWS REACHES GREEN RIVER. 

OLD John Hutchings had failed greatly during 
the time his daughter had been absent from him. 
Being of a weak, irresolute character, her strong 
young spirit had done much to keep him up, and, 
when she left him, he turned to liquor as a consoler, 
and drank more than ever. Bill Brown had prom¬ 
ised that the old man should live with the girl, but 
he seemed to forget all his promises after they 



IO6 THE MAIL ROBBER 

became married, and objected to having old John 
about the house, and so the old man was left alone 
in the little cottage at Green River, to mope and 
drink himself into the grave. 

It is so with many of man and woman kind. It 
is easy to make fair promises to gain a cherished 
end; just as easy to forget them. Some one 
once said, that “ Promises were like pie crust, made 
to be broken,” and so it seems. It proved so in 
the case of Bill Brown at any rate. 

Alice had not led a happy life with her husband. 
Women, young and ardent, need the warm, pas¬ 
sionate love of youth to nourish and enlarge the 
heart. Old age is honorable, and commands 
respect, but it does not satisfy the natural cravings 
of a young woman’s soul. Women often sacrifice 
themselves for wealth. Money can do much, but 
the sacrifice does not lead to happiness, and the 
after results are terrible to contemplate—infidelity, 
sin, suffering. Nature will not be put aside. The 
natural cravings must be satisfied, and so the 
young, eager, passionate creature, linked by the 
law of custom to a man much older in years, often 
forgets her marriage vows and plunges into the sea 
of sins simply because she is created with passions 
that brook no guidance. 

Alice Hutchings (or Brown) was one of these. 
She loved Moore. He had taught her how to love, 
and, although she believed that he had deceived 
her, and had married the old deformed rum-seller 
more from spite than anything, still in her heart 
dwelt the love ready to burst into activity upon the 


THE NEWS REACHES GREEN RIVER 107 

slightest provocation. She had persuaded her hus¬ 
band to allow her to visit her father. Wearied with 
the long ride, she had rested at Fremont, and so 
met Moore, the man she loved, in the manner de¬ 
scribed. The discovery that she had been hasty in 
her action, that the young man was free and could 
have married her, caused her love to increase in 
power, and, when she took the train to go to Green 
River the following morning, she had made up her 
mind never to return to the man she now hated, 
but rather live a life of sin with the man she loved 
with all the passionate adoration of her young 
heart. 

The fact that he was a criminal, a thief, affected 
her not. The crime had been committed for her 
sake, and the fact made him dearer to her, if any¬ 
thing. 

She arrived safely at her destination. She was 
grieved, shocked beyond measure, at the difference 
the few months had made in her father. She felt 
that he could not long exist, and her determination 
never to return to Brown grew stronger. She 
would remain with her father until the day of his 
death, which she felt was not long distant. 

The old man welcomed her with childish, maud¬ 
lin joy. The 'tears streamed down his aged, 
bloated face, and he clasped her in his arms and 
kissed her over and over again, as he expressed his 
joy at seeing her again. 

“ You don’t know how much I have missed ye, 
Ally,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes with the back 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


108 

of his hand. “ The world has been black and 
cheerless since you went away.” 

“ I will never leave you again, father,” she 
answered. “ I shall stay at home with you as long 
as you live.” 

How familiar everything seemed to her. She 
had only been gone a few months, but it seemed as 
many years to her, and she ran about the house, 
out into the forest, like a child released from school, 
or a prisoner given his liberty after years of con¬ 
finement. 

The morning following her arrival old John went 
into the town. He needed certain provisions, and 
arose early and trudged off into Green River, 
before Alice had arisen. He n ’ purchases, 
and was about to retu 
railroad telegraph opei 
“ Good morning, John 
“ Hello, Jim,” ansv 
“ Nice morning for 
“ Yes, mighty nice 
“ Have you heard 
“ What news.” 

“ Johnnie Moore 1 
the mail.” 

The announceme) 
old man was staggei 
“ John Moore? ” h 
“ Yes. He stole £ 
last, and they’ve coll 
The old man coulc 


THE NEWS REACHES GREEN RIVER 109 

words. He stood and stared at the man in blank 
astonishment, his chin trembling, his eyes shifting. 

“Ain’t there some mistake?” he mumbled, 
finally. 

“ No; I got the news before I went off duty; it’s 
as straight as a string.” 

Several men gathered around them. They had 
each heard the news. 

“ Too bad, ain’t it? ” said one. 

“ I don’t believe he done it,” muttered another. 

They stood and talked the matter over for some 
time. 

“ I suppose he’ll be tried at Laramie,” remarked 
one of the newcomers at last. 

“ Yes, I guess he will,” answered the telegraph 
operator. 

“ And he’ll git sent up! ” asserted another. 

“ Ain’t there some way we kin help him? ” 
inquired another. 

“ By gosh! We kin try! ” cried several. 

They all liked the young man. To them his 
crime did not appear as such a terrible thing. 
They were willing to help him out if possible. 
They stood for some time upon the sidewalk, and 
tried to arrange some plan by which the young man 
could be saved. 

Old John left them arguing, and hurried home as 
fast as his old legs would carry him. He found 
Alice in the sitting-room. 

She flew toward him and kissed him. 

“ Where have you been, father? ” she asked. 

He told her. 


IIO 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ Why didn’t you call me and let me go?” she 
chided. 

“ I wanted to go myself,” he replied. 

He put his bundle upon the table. 

" I’ve just heard a mighty bad thing,” he 
remarked, turning toward her. 

“ What is it, father? ” she cried, coming toward 
him. His face, grave and sad, oppressed her; she 
felt as if something terrible had happened. 

“ Johnnie Moore has been arrested! ” he blurted 
out. She uttered a sharp cry and fell back. 

“ Arrested? ” she gasped. 

" Yes; it appears that he stole some money out 
of the mail. ” 

She understood it all now, he had been discov¬ 
ered, and had been captured; he was a prisoner 
arrested for a crime which he had committed for 
her sake. She felt as if she was to blame for it all, 
and, sinking into a chair, she burst into tears. 

“ Don’t cry about it,” mumbled the father. “ He 
may not be guilty. 

She dried her eyes and looked him in the face. 

“No, father,” she said, “I know that he is 
guilty.” 

He seemed surprised. 

“ How do you know? ” he asked. 

“ He told me so.” 

The look of astonishment in the old man’s face 
deepened. 

“ Told you so! ” he muttered. “ When? How? ” 

She explained to him the circumstance of her 
meeting with Moore. 


THE NEWS REACHES GREEN RIVER 


III 


“Then, you saw him in Fremont?” he asked, 
when she had finished. 

“ Yes.” 

“ And he told you he committed the robbery?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, that beats all. You'd better not tell any 
one else that, or they'll have you up for a witness,” 
he said. “ Why on earth did he do this? ” he 
asked, after an interval. 

“ To prove his love for me,” she answered. 

Old John fell back in one of the chairs near 
him. 

“ I never knew he loved you,” he mumbled. 

“ I know it, father; we kept it from you; but he 
did love me, and that love drove him to commit 
this crime, and, after he had done it all, it was use¬ 
less; it was all for nothing.” 

She burst into a fresh torrent of tears. Tenderly 
the old man tried to comfort her. He did not like 
to see her in tears. It grieved his old heart. 

Gradually she became composed, and then, 
piecemeal, he extracted the story from her. He 
learned that John Moore had sinned to save him, 
and win his daughter. He had always liked the 
young fellow, and now, when he heard how the 
young man had disgraced himself, had even been 
captured, and would probably go to prison for 
what he had done for him, he broke out into a tor¬ 
rent of regret of true sorrow. 

“By God! he’s a man!” he cried; “Brown 
wouldn't have done that. The conniving, schem- 


112 THE MAIL ROBBER 

ing old devil! Pity you didn’t wait awhile before 
you married that old skunk.” 

Alice waited until he became quiet, and then she 
said: “ I shall never return to him; my heart is with 
Johnnie Moore, and I shall remain true to him as 
long as I live.” 

“ But he will go to jail,” cried her father. 

“ We must try to save him,” she answered. 

“Yes,” he answered, in a dazed manner; “we 
must try to save him; but how? ” 

“ Where there is a will, there is always a way,” 
she replied. “ We must find out the full particu¬ 
lars, and then we can act. There are many ways. 
It is not yet proven that he committed the theft. 
He certainly would not be foolish enough to con¬ 
fess it. Wait until we find out something about it, 
and then you can arrange your plans.” 

“ All the men in Green River are willing to help 
him,” he said. 

“ And we must obtain their assistance,” she 
rejoined. “ Their services may be necessary; we 
may be obliged to resort to force to free him; but 
he shall be set free, even if it shall be necessary to 
tear the jail in pieces, to level it to the ground; he 
has sacrificed himself for my sake and yours; I will 
give my life in order to free him.” 

The old man looked upon her admiringly. He 
had never seen her show such spirit before; he 
became imbued with a portion of it himself; he 
rose to his feet. 

“Yes, by God! we’ll save him,” he cried. 
" We’ll have breakfast, and then I’ll go back to 


A STORMY INTERVIEW I 13 

town and find out the particulars. Then we can 
act.” 

“ I’ll go with you, father,” she rejoined. “ To¬ 
gether we can learn much more than apart. I’ll go 
with you, and, if we cannot arrange some plan for 
Johnnie Moore’s escape or release, then I shall lose 
all faith in a determined woman’s power.” 

They ate breakfast, and then, locking up the 
house, went to Green River. 


CHAPTER XX. 

A STORMY INTERVIEW. 

Many facts had been made known since John 
Hutchings had left Green River that morning. It 
was ascertained that Moore had said that he won 
the money at poker in Green River, and also that 
he was held under ten thousand dollars bail. Be¬ 
fore they returned home, the father and daughter 
also learned that the young fellow was not in prison, 
but out on bail, a prominent politician having 
gone his bond. 

“ I am glad he is not in jail,” remarked the girl, 
on their way home. “ I can do him more good if 
he is at liberty than if he was confined.” 

“ What are you going to do? ” queried the father. 

“ First of all I am going to Fremont to see him; 
you can accompany me; he shall see that I have 
not deserted him, then I shall try and arrange some 
plan with him.” 

“ When will you go? " 

The Mail Robber 8 



THE MAIL ROBBER 


114 


“ At what hour does the next east-bound train 
leave?” 

“ At three ten this afternoon,” he answered. 

“ We will take that train.” 

They reached home, and set about making prep¬ 
arations for the journey. It did not take long. 
Two valises — one for the girl, the other for the old 
man — and all was ready. It was not the inten¬ 
tion of the girl to remain in Fremont any great 
length of time, so she did not take many articles of 
apparel with her. 

The old man was delighted with the prospect of 
the trip. He had not ridden upon a railroad train 
in years, and the prospect of the long ride gave him 
as much satisfaction as though he was again a child. 

They left Green River upon the afternoon train. 
Arriving in Fremont, Alice went to the same hotel 
where she had stopped before, and, having every¬ 
thing satisfactorily arranged, she wrote a note to 
Moore, which she sent to the post-office. 

Two days passed, and the young man did not call 
in answer to the note. She worried considerably 
over this. She could not understand why he did 
not come. Upon the evening of the third day he 
called. 

“ Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come! ” she cried, run¬ 
ning to meet him as he entered the room. “ Why 
did you not come sooner? ” 

He explained that business in Laramie City had 
detained him from home, that he had only just 
received her note. Old John was not present. 
She invited him to sit beside her, which he did. 


A STORMY INTERVIEW 


115 

She plunged at once into the subject, plying him 
with questions. 

He answered them all as well as he could. 

“ Do you think you can prove your innocence? ” 
she asked, when he had told her everything. 

He smiled. 

“ I don’t know that I can prove my innocence,” 
he said, “ for you know I am not innocent; but I 
have great hopes of being able to make the jury 
believe I am innocent.” 

“ It is the same thing,” she retorted. 

“ Yes, in the eyes of the world,” he said. 

“ What are you going to do? ” 

He outlined his plans. 

S‘he heard him through. 

“ Would not escape be the safest plan? ” she asked, 
when he had finished. 

“ I cannot escape without causing one of my best 
friends to lose ten thousand dollars,” he rejoined, 
“ and I would rather go to jail than do that.” 

She wavered. She had suggested a dishonorable 
action, and his words had reproved her. 

“ Besides, there is no necessity of remaining 
away,” he continued. “I think that I shall be 
able to beat them. My plans are well laid. My 
former good reputation will stand me in good stead; 
and there are men who will testify that they saw 
me win the money at cards. So, I think, I will 
come out all right.” 

He spoke so calmly, so assuringly, that she felt 
easier in her mind. She came to the conclusion 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


116 

that he had his plans well laid, and would succeed 
in escaping the law. 

She allowed him to love her as much as he chose, 
and he chose to go to extremes. He was holding 
her in his arms, her head upon his breast, when she 
said: 

“ It would kill me if you were separated from 
me, Johnnie.” 

“Never fear,” he answered. “I don’t propose 
to go to jail, even if I should be convicted. Strong 
jails have been broken before, and, with you to 
work for me on the outside, there is every reason 
to suppose that I could become a free man. So 
don’t worry, dear. It will all come out all right.” 

She nestled close to him. How she loved him. 

Suddenly, without a moment’s warning, the door 
(which she had neglected to lock) flew open. With 
a startled cry, she sprang to her feet, and saw her 
husband standing in the doorway, his ugly face 
working with passion, his eyes flashing with malice, 
his skin actually green with suppressed rage. 

“ So,” he cried, harshly, entering the room, “ this 
is how I find you, is it? ” 

“ How dare you enter my room without knock¬ 
ing,” she demanded. 

“ Did he knock?” he asked, pointing to Moore, 
who stood, his hand on his revolver, a silent spec¬ 
tator. 

“ He is my honored guest,” she replied. 

“ And I am only your husband,” retorted the 
angry man. “ The husband has the right of enter¬ 
ing his wife’s apartment without announcing his 


A STORMY INTERVIEW 


n 7 


coming/’ he continued. “ It is not generally sup¬ 
posed that the wife will be found in the arms of a 
lover.” 

“ He is more to me than you ever will be,” she 
retorted. 

He smiled sarcastically, showing his pointed 
teeth as he did so. 

“ There is no doubt of that,” he snarled, “ I know 
you do not love me; but please remember one 
thing, I am your husband, and, by the laws of this 
country, your lord and master; be kind enough to 
remember that. ” 

She uttered a slight cry of contempt. 

“ My lord and master,” she sneered. “ Hear 
me, I left your house several days ago; I shall never 
enter it again. You cannot force me; you won me 
by deceit; I have found out since that you lied to 
me when you explained your action at the duel. I 
will never live with you again. You are my 
husband no longer; you can obtain a divorce if 
you wish; you have proof of my infidelity. I 
will give you further and more convincing proof if 
necessary. Understand me, I hate you ! I loathe 
you / I love only the man who stands near me.” 

She had worked herself up into a passion, and 
she fairly hissed the bitter words at him. 

" And do you think I will allow you to put me off 
in this manner?” he snarled, coming closer to her. 
“ No! You are my wife. I took you a stained 
creature. I knew what you were when I married 
you. I do not propose to seek for a divorce. No! 
You are my wife, and wife you shall be to me.” 


118 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


“ You will try to force me to live with you? ” she 
asked, with ominous quietness. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then , I will kill you! ” she answered, firmly. 

He turned pale. Then turning fiercely to Moore, 
he cried: “ This is all your doing. Thief. Se¬ 
ducer.” 

The young man advanced one step toward him, 
his handsome face aglow. 

“ Be careful, Bill Brown,” he said, in a warning 
tone; “ I have not very much love for you. Do 
not tempt me beyond endurance. Your death 
would benefit me.” 

“ You threaten my life,” muttered the ex-saloon¬ 
keeper. 

“ No; I simply warn you.” 

“ I will go down-stairs and inform the proprietor 
of this house of what is going on here,” cried 
Brown. 

“ Do so; and he will kick you out for your pains. 
I am well known here and respected, which is more 
than you are anywhere.” 

The man looked from one to the other, and then, 
with a furious look in his eyes, left the room. 

“ He will do you mischief,” murmured Alice, as 
the door closed behind him. 

“ I am not afraid of him,” replied Moore. “ He 
cannot injure me in any way unless he shoots mein 
the back; but, knowing that he is near me, I shall 
be extra careful. ” 

They resumed their seat upon the sofa. In a 
short time old John entered the room. He was 


A STORMY INTERVIEW 


119 


very pale, and, after greeting the young man effu¬ 
sively, he said: 

“ I saw Bill Brown down-stairs; he was in a ter¬ 
rible state; he is resolved to do something des¬ 
perate.” 

Moore smiled. 

“ I heard him say something to that effect only 
a short time ago. He won’t hurt me, John.” 

“ I hope not. ” 

“ Did he mention how he happened to come 
here?” asked Alice. 

“Yes; he read of Moore’s arrest in the Kansas 
City papers, and came on to Green River to see 
how matters stood. He found the house empty, 
and from the ticket agent learned that we had both 
come to Fremont. He hastened here and found 
you in the arms of Johnnie Moore; that’s what he 
has told me. He says you are his wife, and you 
have willfully gone wrong, and that he will find a 
way to punish you both. Ah, Ally! why don’t 
you stop to think? You ought to remember that 
your first duty is to your husband. ” 

She stopped him with an imperious gesture. 

“ Allow me to govern my heart as I see fit,” she 
made reply. “ I told you I loved only John 
Moore, and to him alone will I remain faithful; he 
has my heart; to him do I entrust myself.” 

Moore kissed her fondly, while old John looked 
from one to the other. 

“ Well, to your way,” he said; “ I love you, my 
child; and, if you see fit to throw yourself away, I 
shall not try to stop you, as long as it brings you 


120 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


happiness. I haven’t long to live at any rate; I 
may as well live peaceably, and so I won’t try to 
influence you. You ought to have married Moore; 
but, as you have made one mistake, I suppose you’ll 
try to remedy it by making others. It ain’t wise, 
girl, but when would youth consent to be governed 
by wisdom.” 

He turned away and sank into a chair. They 
both stood by him. Moore was the first to speak. 

“ Don’t feel badly about this matter,” he said; 

the day will come when I shall be your daughter’s 
husband. When that time comes you shall not 
have cause to regret. ” 

“ We love each other, father,” added Alice. 

Old John looked up. 

“ Very well,” he mumbled, “ I will say no more.” 

A thundering rap came upon the door. The old 
man leaped to his feet with more agility than one 
would have supposed him capable of. Moore and 
the girl looked rapidly in each other’s faces. 

“ Come in,” cried the girl. 

The door opened, and two men in uniform* 
accompanied by Brown and the landlord, entered. 

“ J ohn Moore, we want to speak to you a mo~ 
ment,” announced the foremost of the men ia 
uniform. 


A HORRIBLE END 


121 


CHAPTER XXL 

A HORRIBLE END. 

MOORE stepped forward as the man spoke. He 
knew him well; he was one of the police officers 
of the town. 

“ All right, Jerry,” he cried. “ I’ll talk with you 
willingly. Where shall it be? ” 

“ In my room, Johnnie,” spoke up the landlord. 
“ I wish to say something to you myself.” 

Moore glanced at Brown. That gentleman’s face 
was radiant with malice, and the young man felt 
assured that the ill-favored rum-seller had been try¬ 
ing to cause him trouble. He made up his mind, 
as he followed the landlord out of the room, that 
he would defeat Brown, even if it cost him all he 
was worth. 

As the party filed out of the room, the officer 
who had been called Jerry took hold of Brown’s 
arm. 

“ Come,” he said, “ we want you to be present.” 

“ There is no necessity for it,” growled the man. 

"Allow me to be the best judge of that,” 
retorted Jerry, and, despite the old man’s strug¬ 
gles, he forced him along. 

Alice had commenced to cry when the policeman 
had entered the room, but a look from Moore 
silenced her grief, and she now looked on without 
any outward show of emotion. 

Old John sat as if dazed. He had been drinking 
considerable, which fact accounted for his reprov^ 


122 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


ing words to his daughter, and it might be added, 
that Brown paid for much of the liquor. 

He saw the officer leave the room with the two 
men without making any comment. In a few 
moments later he dozed off into a sleep. 

The girl sat looking at him for a period of five 
minutes, and then, seeing that he slept soundly, she 
quietly left the room. 

She was anxious to know what was going on. 

The landlord led the way to his private apart¬ 
ment, the officer, Moore and Brown following. 

Once there, the proprietor pointed to chairs, and 
took one himself. 

“ Before the officers inform you as to the nature 
of their business, I have a question to ask you, 
Johnnie, and I want you to answer me straight,” he 
began. 

“ All right, Bob. Go ahead,” replied Moore. 

“ Who is that lady up-stairs? ” 

“ She is this man’s wife,” pointing to Brown. 

“ So he said. What business had you in her 
room? ” 

“ See here, Bob, that question is unnecessary.” 

“ No, Johnnie; it is necessary,” replied the land¬ 
lord. 

“ Why?” cried Moore. 

“ I’ll tell you. This man Brown came down into 
my office a short time ago and said that he had dis¬ 
covered his wife alone in your society and in a 
position hardly proper. I don't allow any crooked 
work in my house, John, and so I determined to 


A HORRIBLE END 123 

investigate and ask you for an explanation. Now, 
what were you doing there, Johnnie? ” 

“ By God, I’ll tell you Bob, and prove to you 
that this venomous reptile is a mischief-making 
liar,” cried Moore. “ I used to be engaged to that 
woman, Bob, and we were happy until this crawl¬ 
ing snake came along and made mischief between 
us. She married him, and has been sorry for it 
ever since. I met her by accident here a few days 
ago, and found it all out. Naturally we were glad 
to see each other, and, when she heard of my 
arrest, she came back to Fremont to see if she 
could not be of any service to me. We were talk¬ 
ing quietly when this man entered the room. The 
door was not locked, and that fact alone speaks 
volumes. This mean, cowardly wretch has lied 
about his wife and about me.” 

“ Is this the truth, Johnnie? ” 

“ True as gospel.” 

“ I believe you,” answered the landlord. “ I’ve 
known you for years, Johnnie, and you’ve always 
proven straight. Now, gentlemen, it’s your turn,” 
to the policemen. 

The officers seemed rather backward in stating 
their business, now that Brown had been shown to 
be such a character; but, finally, Jerry came for¬ 
ward and said: 

“ We have been informed by this man that you 
have been making preparations to jump your bail; 
is this true? ” 

“ No. By God! it’s an infernal lie,” cried Moore; 
“ I never thought of such a thing. So this is how 


124 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


you’re trying to hurt me, is it? ” he added, turning 
upon Brown. 

The man turned his ugly face away. He could 
not stand the look ii Tie young man’s eyes. 

“ Can you prove this, Moore,” asked the officer. 

“ I will testify for him,” cried a voice at the door. 

They all turned and saw the young girl standing 
in the doorway. 

“ I can testify for him;” she repeated, coming 
forward. 

“ He was in my company, and I even sug¬ 
gested that he should try to escape; his answer 
was: ‘What! and cause one of my best friends to 
lose ten thousand dollars? No! I will not be 
guilty of a dishonorable action; I am innocent, and 
can prove it.’ He did not propose to escape, 
gentlemen.” 

The words, spoken in a clear, firm tone, carried 
conviction with them, and the policeman, turning to 
Moore, said: 

“ I did not believe it, Johnnie, when I heard it, 
but thought it best to investigate. ” 

“ It was but your duty, Jerry,” cried Moore. 
“ You would not have thought of such a thing if 
this snake in the grass had not aroused your sus¬ 
picions.” 

The policeman turned to Brown; his voice was 
stern as he said: 

“ I have found you out to be a liar; keep out of 
my sight, or I may have cause to exercise my 
authority upon you, and, if I do, I’ll not let up on 
you.” 


A HORRIBLE END 


125 


Brown gnashed his teeth in silent rage. 

The landlord spoke next. 

“ Believing you to be a malicious, unprincipled 
scoundrel, who would not hesitate to sacrifice the 
good name of his own wife, I prefer your room to 
your company. I cannot keep you in my hotel.” 

The man turned fiercely upon the proprietor. 

“ Very good,” he cried, “ I will go, but my wife 
shall go with me.” 

“ She shall be allowed the privilege of suiting 
herself about that,” retorted the landlord. 

“ Do not allow him to insist upon my going with 
him,” cried Alice, beseechingly. “ I fear him. He 
would not hesitate one moment about committing 
murder; he tried to murder Mr. Moore once.” 

“ Is this true, Johnnie?” asked the officer. 

“ Yes,” replied Moore. 

“ Then, the lady shall remain here under the pro¬ 
tection of the law, ” said Jerry, firmly. “ You, sir, ” 
he continued, turning to Brown, “ you leave this 
house, and remember my previous warning.” 

The landlord walked to the door of the room and 
threw it open, and stood waiting for the enraged 
and defeated man to leave the apartment. Fairly 
wild with passion and defeat, Brown sprang toward 
the shrinking girl, but Moore was watching him, 
and, as he stepped forward, he stepped between the 
man and the girl, and, with a well directed blow, 
struck him full in the face, causing his nose to 
bleed and knocking him down. Brown was not 
insensible, however, and he rose to his feet, and, 
with a muttered curse, left the room. 


126 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


The policeman followed the discomfited man out 
of the house, and the landlord shook Moore’s hand 
vigorously. 

“ A noble blow,” he cried. “ I never enjoyed 
anything so much in my life. What a venomous 
old reptile that man is, to be sure. ” 

Moore made some reply, and, then, bidding the 
girl not to worry, left the room and the hotel. He 
went directly to his home, where he lived with his 
father and an elder sister, his mother being dead. 
His father was an upright, good old man, who had 
given his son a good education, and who had, 
through influential friends, secured for him the 
position of postal clerk. He grieved sorely when 
the son had been arrested for theft, but, when 
Moore had assured him that he was innocent, and 
could prove it, the old man believed his son and 
rested easy. The young man had been called upon 
to tell many lies to cover up his crime. So it is 
with sin one thing leads to another. Be careful 
of the first step; that is the most important of all. 

As Moore entered the yard which surrounded the 
house, a monstrous dog bounded toward him. 

“ Down, Tiger! ” he commanded, as the brute, 
in his affection, grew too demonstrative. 

The dog a magnificent specimen of a blood¬ 
hound ceased his wild gambols, and walked 
quietly by the young man’s side to the house. 
Moore stopped, and commanded the dog to return 
to his kennel. With a look of reproach, the beast 
obeyed him and slunk around the corner of the 
house. The young man, obeying some impulsd 


A HORRIBLE END 


127 


that he could not account for, stepped toward the 
gate. As he drew near it, he heard a faint rustling 
in the bushes, and, turning quickly, saw in the dim 
light the figure of a man. He had no difficulty in 
recognizinghim. It was Brown. 

“ Ha, you snake — sneaking in the grass, eh! ” 
he cried, in a sharp tone. 

The ex-saloonkeeper made no reply, but his 
next movement was decidedly significant. He 
sprang fiercely toward the young man, and, in the 
dim light, Moore saw that he held a gleaming dag¬ 
ger in his hand. 

He was taken somewhat by surprise, and had 
barely time to dodge the blow which Brown, with 
a bitter curse, aimed at his- heart. 

The next moment the two men were struggling 
upon the ground. 

And a bitter struggle it was. The enraged man 
had made up his mind to kill the young man, and 
had been lying in wait for him. • 

Cursing, struggling, they rolled from side to side 
upon the narrow path. 

Moore had no idea that the withered, deformed 
old man was possessed of such strength. He did 
not stop to think that rage lends strength. He 
felt in his mind that, if Brown succeeded in getting 
the upper hand, it would be all up with him. He 
felt that the man intended to murder him, and so 
s truggledfor his life. Suddenly through the night 
he heard the sharp, quick, angry yelping of the dog 
Tiger. Joy filled his heart. In a moment the 
brute was upon the scene. 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


128 

With an angry growl, he sprang upon the old man. 
Moore felt the clinging hands relax, and sprang to 
his feet. The sight that he now beheld was a hor¬ 
rible one. The dog had seized the man by the 
throat, and was savagely chewing him. Before 
Moore could interfere, the beast had torn out the 
throat entirely, and the bleeding, ghastly form lay 
before him, with the sinister face upturned to the 
sky— dead. Alice Brown was free. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE EVENTS OF A YEAR. 

The news of her husband’s horrible death reached 
the ears of Alice Brown early next morning. 
Moore thought at first of going to the hotel and 
informing her, but was withheld from doing so from 
the fact that it would seem that he was overjoyed 
at the horrible fate of the man, and did not want to 
lose a moment in bearing the news to the young 
widow. So he did not go, but went instead to the 
police station, where the coroner was summoned, 
and the body carried to the hotel. 

Alice showed no sign of grief when the news 
reached her. She looked upon the ghastly, man¬ 
gled form and shed no tears. She could not mourn 
for him who had caused her so much unhappiness. 
She felt a feeling of joy in her heart that she now 
was free, and, as the widow of Brown, wealthy, 
she could marry the man of her choice now. 

It is needless to dwell upon the events which 



THE EVENTS OF A YEAR 


129 


transpired during the next month or two. The 
reader can come to a very good conclusion, without 
any assistance from me. Suffice it to say that, upon 
the 14th day of February — St. Valentine’s day — 
Johnnie Moore led Mrs. Alice Brown to the altar, 
and the two were made one. They went to house¬ 
keeping in Fremont, and were very happy. 

But one thing cast a somber hue upon their sky 
of roseate brightness; that was the fact that the 
trial would take place in a few months, and the ver¬ 
dict might not be a favorable one. Moore felt easy 
in his mind. He had a good lawyer and many 
friends, and, what is more to the purpose, plenty 
of money. He thought it likely that he would get 
off scot free, but was not, nor could he be, posi¬ 
tively certain. He had invented an ingenious line 
of defense, and, with the help of many friends, 
expected to pull through all right. 

Moore had a great many friends in Green River, 
the terminus of his route while in the postal service, 
and the place where he claimed to have won the 
money at poker. In the Territories, offenses against 
the Federal; Government are looked upon as trivial 
matters. Unless the crime is of an outrageous 
character, something which appeals to the rough 
sentiment of the community, conviction is almost 
impossible. 

Now, the theft of $5,000 Canadian money, al¬ 
though it was in the care of Uncle Sam, did not 
strike a number of the inhabitants of this small Ter¬ 
ritorial town as an enormity. Moore was a popular 

The Mail Robber g 


130 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


young .fellow, frank and generous in his nature, 
and considerable sympathy was organized in his 
favor. He maintained that the money was won at 
cards, and his friends were not only disposed to 
believe him; but some of them, in an excess of 
good fellowship, were ready and willing to swear 
his assertion was a fact within their knowledge. 

That this was to be the line of defense, soon came 
to the ears of Inspector Stewart. A little investi¬ 
gation developed that a Green River hotel-keeper 
and a broken-down gambler would take the stand 
at Moore’s trial and swear they saw him win the 
money. 

The trial was fixed for August, 1878, a year 
after the robbery was committed, in Laramie City. 
Moore’s accommodating witnesses came from Green 
River, and were closely watched by Mr. Stewart. 
Like most men of their class, they were in the habit 
of indulging in strong waters. Almost their first 
act on arriving at Laramie City was to seek a sa¬ 
loon and call for whisky. 

There was a crowd in the place discussing 
Moore’s case. Stewart, who was unknown to the 
witnesses, took a prominent part in the discussion, 
and outlined the probable defense. 

" Two or three fellows are coming from Green 
River,” he said, in a loud voice, “ to try and save 
the man. They will swear that they saw him win 
the money at poker. Of course, that’s flat perjury, 
and they will get themselves in trouble. I’m onto 
their game, and will see they get their deserts. 

The witnesses pricked up their ears, and eagerly 


THE EVENTS OF A YEAR 


131 

devoured this discourse. They paid for their 
drinks, and slunk out of the place, and the In¬ 
spector thought the fact that their game was 
known would keep them in the strict line of truth 
when they took the stand. 

But in this he was mistaken. A man who will 
consent to commit perjury must necessarily pos¬ 
sess some sand. The hotel-keeper kissed the 
Bible, and avowed that he was present when Moore 
played the game of cards which resulted in his win¬ 
ning $5,000 of Canadian money. 

The prosecution cross-examined the fellow in 
vain, but suddenly he caught sight of Inspector 
Stewart, and recognized him as the man who had 
made that prophetic statement in the saloon. The 
man’s jaws dropped ; he felt as if he was in a trap. 
A spasm of virtue seized him, and he cried : 

" Let me out of here, Judge. It’s all wrong. I 
didn’t see the prisoner win the money. Let me go, 
for the Lord’s sake.” 

This confession completely upset the scheme of 
defense. The prisoner turned all colors, and whis¬ 
pered excitedly to his counsel, whose courage and 
confidence oozed out of his boots when the self- 
confessed perjurer slunk away before the withering 
eye of the judge. 

The government proved its case, and, without 
leaving their seats, the jury returned a verdict of 
guilty, and Moore was sentenced to three years in 
the penitentiary. 

The pawnbroker and confidence men, against 
whom there was nothing except the temporary 


132 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


possession of the ’stolen money, were not prose¬ 
cuted, and the case against the freighter, whose 
timely contrition assisted in the arrest and con¬ 
viction of the disreputable postal clerk, was nolle 
prossed. 

Moore never told how he accomplished the theft 
which had exercised the detective ingenuity of the 
Postoffice Inspector for so many months. It was 
believed he planned the crime months before its 
execution. His run was two hundred and fifty- 
seven miles, and, as he was alone on the night of 
the robbery, he had a fine opportunity to rifle the 
package and rewrap it so that it would pass the 
muster of the clerk who received it from him at 
Green River. At least so the inspector supposed. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A wife’s stratagem. 

IT nearly broke Alice Brown’s heart when her 
husband was sentenced. Grief nearly killed her, 
and shame for his son’s act, caused the father of 
the guilty man to leave Fremont, and move to 
another town. He could not look his neighbors 
in the face. Alice moved to Cheyenne, to be near 
her husband. She visited him often, and the sight 
of his handsome face bereft of the drooping 
mustache, the well-formed head shaved, and the 
loved form clad in prison garb, caused sharp 
pangs of sorrow and remorse to shoot through 
her heart. 



A wife’s stratagem 


133 


"If she could only save him!” that was the 
thought that dwelt in her mind night and day. If 
by some means she could effect her husband’s 
escape. But she pondered and thought, and no 
possible plan suggested itself. 

Six months passed. Her mind was taken off 
her husband for a time by the death of her father. 
The old man passed away very peacefully. She 
accompanied the corpse to Green River, where he 
had always expressed a desire to be buried, and 
the now orphaned girl returned to Cheyenne alone. 
She lived an exemplary life; no one could say 
aught to her discredit. She kept to herself, and, 
aside from the visits she paid her husband upon 
every visiting day, she hardly ever left her house. 
And so the months passed away. 

Moore had proven a good prisoner; he never 
complained, but performed his daily labor without 
a murmur. He soon gained the confidence of the 
officials, who always spoke well of him. He 
yearned for liberty (show me the prisoner who 
does not), but he knew that his desires could not 
be gratified, and so he made the best of his posi¬ 
tion and tried to content himself. 

One day in July (he had been confined nearly a 
year), Alice made her customary visit. She 
seemed laboring under some suppressed excite¬ 
ment; but, as their interview was in the presence 
of others, Moore could not question her. She had 
brought him some tobacco, and a few other things, 
which passed inspection, and which the man car- 


134 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


ried to his cell when she had gone. As she kissed 
him good-bye, she whispered, quietly: 

“ Examine tobacco,” and then she left him. 

He could not understand her, but came to the con¬ 
clusion at last that there was something interesting 
in connection with the weed, and so waited with 
impatience for the hour to roll around when he 
could go to his cell. The day seemed a long one, 
but the longest day must have its ending, and so 
the eager man was finally locked up for the night. 
As soon as the cell door was closed he took up the 
plug of tobacco. It was of that kind known as 
“ double thick,” being twice the thickness of an 
ordinary plug. He turned it over in his hand, and 
examined it closely. There was nothing suspicious 
about it. Finally, he broke it in two, and then, to 
his surprise, saw that the entire inside of the plug 
had been dug out, as if with a small chisel, and in 
its place was a number of very small but finely 
tempered saws. A piece of paper was wrapped 
around them. The paper was written upon, and 
bore these words: 

“ I have been examining the walls of this prison. 
Twenty feet to the west of your cell is a weak spot, 
caused from the fact that a ndV portion has been 
built lately, and the masons did not complete their 
work. You can easily tell it from the inside, from 
the new mortar, which can be easily distinguished 
from the old. The spot where the wall is weak is 
where the new part begins. There are three large 
stones which have not been mortared in at all. 
The work is to be finished to-morrow. I send you 


A WIFE'S STRATAGEM 


135 


means of cutting through your window bars. Be 
quick, and by midnight you can be once more a 
free man. I will be on the outside at that hour 
with a change of clothing for you, and a clever 
disguise. Go to work as soon as it is dark. May 
fortune favor you." 

There was no name signed, but he knew who 
had written the note — his own darling wife. He 
carefully considered the matter over in his mind, 
and, then, coming to the conclusion that the ven¬ 
ture was a comparatively safe one, he set to work. 
His window was about twelve inches wide and thirty- 
six high — large enough for any ordinary man to 
squeeze through. Three iron bars cemented into 
the stone sill of the window stood between him and 
liberty. Upon these he began to work. The little 
saws cut through the iron without difficulty, and 
in two hours he had the window cleared of the 
obstruction. It was not yet twelve o’clock, and so 
he waited. He could hear the clocks in the city 
strike the hours distinctly, and, after hearing the 
strokes sound out the hour of eleven, he set 
about making ready to leave his cell. His cell was 
one of the second tier, and was about twenty feet 
from the ground. He improvised a rope out of his 
blanket, which he tore in strips, and, waiting a short 
time to allow the waiting wife a chance to arrive at 
her appointed place at midnight, he dragged his iron 
cot to the window, and, tying the rope to it, 
squeezed through the narrow opening, and was 
soon hanging suspended by the blanket rope. 

It did not take him long to reach the ground, 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


136 

and, first assuring himself that he had not been 
seen by any of the guards, he silently crept along 
in the shadow of the stone wall until he reached 
the spot designated. It was as Alice had written, 
easily found, and an exclamation of joy nearly 
escaped his lips as he saw that two of the stones 
had been removed. As he could see no signs of 
them upon the inside of the wall, he came to the 
conclusion that they had been removed by some 
one on the outside. That some one he felt had 
been his wife. He lost no time in getting through 
the opening, and in a few moments was standing 
by his wife’s side. She was clad in male costume, 
and at first he had not recognized her, but her 
voice revealed her identity, and he saw the wisdom 
in her action. 

“ Come,” she whispered. “ The street is 
deserted. Here is your disguise. I have brought 
you everything necessary. Change your costume 
at once.” 

He prepared to do so, and had taken off the 
hated prison coat, when the sound of confusion 
upon the other side of the wall caused him to 
stop and turn pale. 

“ The flight is discovered,” he murmured. 

" Come, we can make good our escape,” she 
whispered. “ Carry the disguise with you.” 

He could distinctly hear the alarmed voices of 
the guards upon the other side, and knew that 
there was no time to be lost; so, picking up the 
bundle which contained the disguise, he hurried 
after Alice. 


A FATALITY 


137 


Upon the next corner a horse and buggy was 
waiting for them to clamber into; this was the work 
of a moment, and the next they were speeding down 
the street toward the open country. None too 
soon either, for, as the horse started into a gallop, 
the prison gate flew open, and six men ran into tne 
street. 

“ After him!” shouted the foremost who saw the 
horse and buggy. 

With compressed lips, the escaping man applied 
the whip to the horse, and flew along the dark 
street toward liberty. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

A FATALITY. 

THE horse provided by the loving wife to enable 
herhusband to make good his escape from durance 
vile, was a good one, a high-spirited animal 
which had taken the first prize at the county fair 
the year before for speed and endurance; and so, 
as the escaping ones dashed along the dusty road 
toward the open country, a feeling of exulta¬ 
tion filled the hearts of each, as they felt that 
the chances of recapture were almost impossible. 
They knew that it would take considerable time 
for the officers and guards to provide themselves 
with horses, as the hour was late, and felt confident 
that, if but fifteen minutes’ start was given them, 
they would be safe. This, they felt sure, would be 
given them, and so, with hearts almost light, with 



THE MAIL ROBBER 


138 

the light of joy and satisfaction in their eyes, these 
two, husband and wife, rode along side by side, 
feeling a helpful sensation of joy in the thoughts that 
filled their minds. 

The wind gradually arose, blowing a light cloud 
of dust from the road, which, arising in the air, also 
served them a good turn in hiding them from the 
vision of those who would fain overtake and con¬ 
fine them within the stone walls of the jail. 

Clatter! clatter! came the sound of horses’ hoofs 
in the distance. 

Involuntarily, Alice clasped her husband’s arm. 
“ They are coming,” she whispered, her voice 
sounding hoarse with suppressed anxiety. 

John Moore made no reply. He simply com¬ 
pressed his lips more tightly; his eyes assumed a 
sterner expression. 

Clatter! clatter! 

The sound seemed more distinct. Could it be 
possible that the pursuers were gaining upon them? 

“Faster, John; for God’s sake, faster.” almost 
moaned the wife. “ We must not be overtaken. 
We must escape.” 

“ By heaven, we shall,” answered Moore, his pale 
face growing stern and resolute. He realized that 
the guards, mounted on good horses, running them 
at full gallop, might overtake his own faithful 
animal, which was simply trotting, but at a good 
pace. A running horse, if a good one, can make 
faster time than a trotter, but can seldom hold out 
so long. Up to that moment, John Moore had not 
used the whip to the horse, save at the start; but, as 


A FATALITY 


139 


the sound of the pursuing ones came more and 
more distinctly to his ears, he took the whip from 
the socket, and applied it to the horse. With a 
snort, the high-spirited animal broke from the 
trotting pace into a gallop. Again and again the 
whip descended on the back, on the shoulders, 
around the ears of the horse. At a terrific rate of 
speed the beast tore along the road. Pale and 
frightened, the woman clung to the side-bars of the 
buggy. 

Ah! The sound of the pursuing ones’ horses 
grows fainter. Now it cannot be heard at all. 

" We have distanced them,” exultingly cried 
Moore. " We will escape.” 

He made no effort to restrain the horse. His 
mind was too much occupied with thoughts of 
escape, to notice that the animal, wild from the 
pain and punishment so ruthlessly inflicted by his 
driver, showed no signs of relapsing into the swift 
trot again. 

No; the horse had become the master, he was 
running away. 

This fact John Moore discovered, when, after 
rapidly traversing several miles, he attempted to 
rein in the beast. He found his effort useless; he 
could not master the horse. 

He grew pale for the moment. 

“ Why don’t you stop the horse, John, ” anxiously 
murmured the woman. 

“ I cannot,” he responded. “ He has the bit in 
his teeth, and I cannot control him.” 

" We shall be dashed to pieces,” cried Alice. 


140 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


He tried to reassure her, realizing only too well, 
however, the danger they were in. As long as 
the horse kept straight along in the middle of the 
road, there might not be any harm come to them, 
for the road was a good one, and there was no 
danger of being upset. But in the distance, 
Moore could perceive the shadow of a forest. If 
the mad animal should swerve from the path, either 
to the right or the left, when they entered the 
wood, the buggy would surely strike on a tree, 
and be broken perhaps, and they be cast out, and 
probably killed or injured. All this flashed through 
his mind as they sped along. 

“ We must trust to Providence,” he muttered, 
between his set teeth; and then, passing one arm 
about the delicate waist of her whom he loved 
better than life, he waited the time when the horse 
should reach the forest. 

It came at last; with a rush, they dashed in 
among the trees, almost striking a lofty pine the 
first thing. 

The road through the forest was very narrow, 
and the danger of striking either to the right or 
left great; but Providence seemed to be watching 
over them, for, although they came within a few 
inches of striking several times, they pursued their 
mad course for nearly an hour, without meeting 
with accident. 

“God is good to us,” cried the man, aloud, as they 
narrowly escaped running against a tree which had 
been blown down during a recent hurricane. 


A FATALITY 


141 


M Truly good, and we so undeserving — so sin¬ 
ful,” replied Alice. 

“ No, my darling, not more sinful than the 
majority of the world,” said Moore. “ I sinned to 
save another. You sinned to right a wrong. We 
have been unfortunate in being found out. There 
are hundreds infinitely worse than either you or I, 
who go on sinning year after year, respected by 
the world because they have not been found out.” 

“ But God knows, John.” 

“ True, dear, and, knowing, He covers us with the 
cloak of His great love and divine forgiveness, 
because we have suffered through our sin.” 

With a smile of affection the wife drew closer to 
her husband. The horse at last showed signs of 
relaxing his terrific speed. He was tired out. 
Gasping and blowing, he staggered along. 

“ I don’t like to see the horse act like that,” 
muttered Moore, anxiously. 

“ Why, dear.” 

“ I am afraid he is going to give out,” replied 
Moore. He had scarcely given utterance to the 
words before the beast, broken down by the force 
of his own mad efforts, trembled in the shafts, gave 
utterance to a low whinny, and fell to the ground. 
As quick as thought, Moore sprang out of the 
buggy, and examined the animal. A cry of 
pity escaped his lips, followed by a feeling of 
anxiety. 

Alice heard the cry. 

“ What is it, John?” she asked. 

“ I am afraid the horse can go no farther,” he 


142 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


replied, applying his hand in the region of the 
animal’s heart. 

“ Why not, dear? ” 

“ He is dead,” replied the man, sorrowfully. 

“ Dead! Then, we are lost!” 

The next moment Alice stood by her husband’s 
side. 

Yes; the noble animal was dead, killed by the 
exercise of his own mad passion. How like many 
of human kind, who, overcome by anger at the 
touch of the whip, run themselves to the grave. 
How few of us can restrain ourselves when punish¬ 
ment, meant for our own good, is applied. We 
take the bit between our teeth, and, in a mad effort 
to have our own way, bring to our souls and bodies 
irrevocable ruin — death! 


CHAPTER XXV. 

ALMOST DEATH. 

Silent and oppressed, realizing the slight pros¬ 
pect of now escaping, unless by taking to the 
almost impenetrable forest, these two stood by the 
dead body of the horse. 

For fully ten minutes they stood there; with a 
start the man turned and looked anxiously up the 
road. 

His quick ear had detected the sound of horses’ 
hoofs. 

“ They are coming, my wife,” he muttered, bit¬ 
terly. “ And we shall be taken. We, did I say? 



ALMOST DEATH 


143 


No; /. You shall not become an inmate of that 
horrible prison. You can escape. Go into the 
forest; I will remain here, and, when they come, 
give myself up. We have made an effort and 
failed. I may as well give myself up and serve 
my time.” 

A look of determination came to the woman’s 
beautiful face. 

" No, my husband,” she whispered; “ if you 
return to your prison, I will be by your side; I 
will feel happier, knowing that the same roof covers 
us both. No; I will not leave you.” 

He clasped her in his arms. 

“ My darling,” he murmured, kissing her rosy 
lips passionately, “ your resolution shows your great 
love for me; but it is a foolish one, and cannot 
benefit me any. If you are confined, you cannot 
help me. Outside the prison walls you may be of 
service to me. Another chance may come. An¬ 
other opportunity may present itself. Go. Those 
who are coming do not know that you are with 
me. Consequently they will not search for you, 
and you can get away. My plan is the best one 
for both of us. You must do as I say.” 

The woman bowed her head in thought. Far 
off, as yet, the sound of the galloping horse hoofs 
came to their ears. In ten minutes they would be 
upon them. Suddenly she looked up, and a bright 
smile of inspiration came to her lips. Her eyes 
shone, her face was radiant. “ If the forest will 
shelter me, why not you,” she cried eagerly. 
“ These men who are pursuing us, are mounted. 


144 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


They cannot use their horses to follow us into the 
woods. We have the start of them. Why can we 
not both escape? ” 

A gasp of relief came from his lips. He had not 
thought of trying to escape, now that the horse was 
dead. He realized the truth of her suggestion. 
There was a calm. “ My sweet one, ” he murmured, 
once more clasping her in his arms. “ There is a 
chance. Providence has not deserted us. I will 
make an effort to escape. We have as much 
chance as they have, and may be successful yet. 
Come, rather the solitude and danger of the 
woods under the free sky, than the horrible solitude 
of incarceration between stonewalls.” 

With one farewell glance at the dead horse, the 
criminal took the hand of his wife and plunged into 
the black depths of the forest. 

With great difficulty they forced their way. The 
undergrowth was thick and difficult to get through, 
but the new-found hope of finally escaping seemed 
to assist the man in his efforts. In ten minutes’ 
time they had put some distance between them¬ 
selves and the road. The exertion was very try¬ 
ing to Alice. Although strong for a woman, she 
did not possess the vigorous constitution of a man, 
and soon the husband perceived, with feelings of 
alarm and anxiety, that she was breathing with 
difficulty, panting like 'an overworked animal. 
“ Poor wife,” he murmured, “ you will not be able 
to endure this long. ” She smiled bravely —a smile 
he could not see in the darkness and replied : 


ALMOST DEATH 


145 


“ Of course it is hard work, John, dear, but I can 
stand it for your sake.” 

He made no reply, but felt in his heart that she 
would soon give out. At last her sufferings became 
so perceptible that he stopped. 

“ You can go no further,” he said, in a positive 
tone. “ I will not kill you, even to save myself 
from prison bars; you must stop and rest.” 

The words had hardly passed his lips, when, with 
a gasp, the woman fell to the ground. She was 
thoroughly exhausted. Anxiously the husband fell 
on his knees beside her, and applied his ear to her 
heart. 

Violently that organ was throbbing, the lungs 
heaving, and the breath escaping in short, quick 
gasps. With a curse for himself, an angry anathema 
at his own selfishness, as he expressed it, he tore 
open the shirt which she wore as part of her male 
attire, and allowed the breast more room forexpan- 
sion. Down through the lofty trees the fitful moon¬ 
light shone upon the white throat, swollen from 
the effort of breathing. The softly rounded breasts, 
exposed in his haste and anxiety, rose and fell 
rapidly, the white flesh, white and pure as marble, 
looked to his anxious eyes, ghastly and deathlike. 

“ Will she die?” he murmured, an overwhelm¬ 
ing feeling of bitter sorrow sweeping through his 
soul. As he knelt, the wind carried to his ears the 
sound of voices — sounding faint and indistinct, as 
though at a distance—but he knew from whence 
came the sounds; knew that the guards had come 
up to the dead horse and the forsaken buggy; real- 


146 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


ized that in a short time they would be upon his 
track once more. 

“Let them come,” he muttered. “I shall not 
fly. My wife is dying, for all I know, and I will 
not leave her.” 

As he spoke, a wild thought came to him, a 
thought that caused him to spring to his feet and 
utter a cry of joy: 

“ If she dies, life will have lost its pleasures to 
me,” he thought. “ I will join her in the other 
world. Ah, hounds ! I will escape you. You 
may find me; but, when you do, the fear of prison 
walls will have gone from me forever. There will 
be two dead bodies side by side.” 

With a quick, nervous gesture, he drew from the 
pocket of the pantaloons which had been furnished 
him by his wife as part of his disguise a knife 
which he had found there. With calm deliberation 
he opened the blade. It was dull and rusty, but 
a weapon which could still suffice for his ends, if 
necessary. He felt satisfied now; almost wished 
that the necessity of using it would come, but it 
did not; for, as he passed his thumb over the 
ragged edge of the blade to try its keenness, the 
form before him showed signs of recovery, the 
labored breathing became less violent, and, finally, 
the beautiful eyes opened, and looked up into his 
face in the pale moonlight. 

He perceived with joy these signs of returning 
life. 

“Thank God; you are better,” he cried, drop¬ 
ping the knife in his rapture. 


ALMOST DEATH 


147 


“ I was only tired out,” came in a faint voice 
from between the red lips. He sat down by her. 

“ Rest, my darling,” he murmured. “ Rest as 
long as you wish.” 

He raised her in his arms, her head reclining 
upon his breast. 

For some time she lay there, apparently satis¬ 
fied. Suddenly she raised her head. 

“ But those who are pursuing us. The guards — 
what of them? ” she cried, anxiously. 

He thought it best, and so lied to her. 

“We have escaped them,” he said; “we are 
safe.” 

“ Heaven be praised,” she murmured, and then 
the beautiful head found its resting-place once more 
upon the breast of the husband, the cheek lying 
over the heart that was filled with love for her. 

He had resolved to make no further effort to 
escape. Rather imprisonment than the death of 
his wife. And he firmly believed that the violent 
exertion necessary to make good their flight through 
the dense forest would surely bring about her end. 

And so, calmly, almost eagerly, he waited for the 
sound of crackling bushes, broken by the efforts of 
the guards forcing their way through the under¬ 
growth, to reach his ears. He expected it, had 
made up his mind to accept his fate. The sooner 
it was over the better. 

But the night dragged through. Early dawn 
found the escaping man and his loved one in the 
same place where she had given out. The guards 
had not come. 


148 THE MAIL ROBBER 

As the pale gray light of another day forced 
itself down among the trees, Alice, who had 
been sleeping peacefully upon her husband’s breast, 
aroused herself, and opened her eyes. 

Moore, gaunt and pale after the horrible events 
of the preceding night, observed the action, and 
forced a smile to his pale face. 

" You feel all right now? ” he asked, in a voice 
which he tried to make sound cheerful. 

She arose to her feet. 

“ All right now, dear,” she replied. “ I feel as 
though I could walk fifty miles without fatigue. 
But you! You look worn out. I am afraid you 
will be ill. ^ 

He smiled. A ghastly effort. 

“ Never fear for me,” he said. “ It is but natural 
that I should look tired. I had no sleep last night. 

I was watching you.” 

“ You should have taken your rest when you saw 
that I was sleeping. There was no need of your 
wearing yourself out,” and she spoke in a tone of 
censure. 

He had arisen to his feet during her rebuke. 
Lovingly he gazed upon her. How he loved her. 

“ I could not have rested, knowing we were 
both exposed to danger,” he said. “ There are 
wild beasts, bears, wolves, and other animals in 
these woods, and I kept awake to shield you in 
case necessity required. Besides, I was planning,” 
She turned to him quickly. 

“ Well, what are your plans ? ” she asked. 
His eyes were striving to penetrate the depths of 


ALMOST DEATH 1 49 

the forest which surrounded them. Finally he 
said: 

“ Although we are safe for the present, there is 
no certainty for how long we will continue so. 
For some reason, which of course I am powerless 
to explain, the guards gave up the pursuit last 
night, but I do not think they have given up the 
hope of capturing us eventually. Even now they 
may be near us. We must leave this place. 
Where we can go, I cannot say. Our disguises, 
which might have served us well under cover of 
night, will surely be penetrated by light of day. 
We are in a bad fix. We have no food, nor can 
we apply to any chance farmer who may live near, 
for any; for the probabilities are that by this time, 
the news of my escape has been noised abroad. I 
would not be at all surprised if it were being read 
by the people of Chicago, or even New York. 
News of this kind spreads rapidly.” 

She interrupted him. 

“ Yes, yes ! I know all this. It has occurred to 
me since you have been talking. I realize that our 
position is a perilous one, but what can we do ? ” 

Moore made no reply at once. He could not; 
but, if his tongue was idle, his brain was busy. 
Finally he said : 

“ The only thing that I can see is to put a still 
greater distance between the road and ourselves. 
The greatest trouble that I can see is the want of 
food and drink. Still, that Providence which has 
been our friend so far, may not desert us yet. 
There are surely birds and small animals in this 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


ISO 

forest, and this is a well watered country. But,” 
and his brow grew dark and wrinkled, “ even if we 
obtained game, we would be compelled to devour 
it raw, as I have no way of starting a fire.” 

The face of the woman grew bright. 

“ I thought we might need matches, and so pro¬ 
vided myself with a box of them,” she cried, pro¬ 
ducing those very necessary articles from an inside 
pocket of her boy’s jacket. 

He uttered a cry of satisfaction. 

“ Good,” he cried. 

“ I have also a revolver,” she continued, produ¬ 
cing it. 

“ Better yet,” he said. 

“ Now, if Providence will kindly send along a 
rabbit or a squirrel, well have some breakfast.” 

As if in answer to their wishes, at that moment 
a fat rabbit dodged across their path. 

Quick as a flash Moore took the revolver from 
the hands of his wife, and fired. The little animal 
dropped to the ground, and the next moment was 
in the hands of the hungry man. To skin and pre¬ 
pare the breakfast which had been sent them, was 
the work of five minutes; to prepare a fire occu¬ 
pied but a short time; and, inside of fifteen minutes 
from the time that John Moore expressed his wish, 
it was gratified, and the two were eagerly devour¬ 
ing the succulent denizen of the forest. 

How they enjoyed that simple meal. Hunger 
is a good sauce, and they had plenty of it. To add 
to their satisfaction, a running stream of pure water 
was found not far from the spot where they had 


ALMOST DEATH 


151 

kindled their fire, and, with feelings of thankfumess, 
these two, one of whom had been near death’s 
door, drank the crystal fluid provided by nature to 
cool the parched throats of thirsty humanity and 
nourish the roots of the forest monarchs. 

Their primitive meal over, feeling refreshed and 
invigorated, John Moore and his wife pushed their 
way and moved through the clinging bushes and 
brambles of the forest. For two hours they labored; 
then, sitting beneath a tree, they resolved to rest 
a short time before proceeding farther. 

How still all nature seemed. Not a sound woke 
the silence of God’s tabernacle. 

The wind softly fanned their heated cheeks, and, 
lulled by the soft zephyrs, feeling secure in the depths 
of the forest, Moore gradually fell asleep. How 
long he slept, he never knew. He was dreaming of 
a quiet little home, with his wife by his side, happy, 
contented, when a shrill scream aroused him to 
his senses. Half asleep, he sprang to his feet, to 
see his wife standing trembling before him, pointing 
to something in the woods. Thoroughly awake 
now, aroused to himself by the sight of his wife’s 
terror, he glanced keenly in the direction which her 
trembling finger indicated. Then he saw what 
caused her scream. Forcing their way rapidly 
toward them, not over one hundred yards away, 
came the guards, and they saw the escaping ones. 

“ Surrender, Moore; you cannot escape,” cried 
the captain. 

Quickly Moore glanced about him. He was des¬ 
perate. He resolved now, after passing through 


152 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


all he had, rather death than capture. So, with a 
word to his wife, he yelled, in a tone of passion, 

“ I’ll see you in h-1 first, damn you,” and sprang 

into the forest, followed by Alice. 

Bang! Bang! sounded out the revolvers of the 
pursuers. 

Zip! Zip! whistled the bullets of the guards, 
but they did no harm to the two fleeing ones. 
One merely cut off the branch of a small tree, the 
other lodged in the trunk of another. 

“ We’ll have them yet,” cried the captain of the 
guard. “ Come on, boys. Dead or alive, John 
Moore must go back with us.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE PURSUIT. 

Moore’S escape had been discovered but a few 
minutes after it had been effected, by the warder, 
who had been passing along the corridor, and who 
(as was his usual custom) looked in at the wicket of 
the cell door. He saw the bed dragged up to the 
window, and, opening the door, saw that the cell 
was empty, and that the bars had been sawed 
through. 

To give the alarm was the work of a few minutes, 
and inside of fifteen minutes after Moore had left 
his cell, the guards of the penitentiary were hot 
after him. 

Some little time was lost in getting horses to 
pursue the mail robber, but the horses were fleet, 
and, as the officers dashed along the road in pur- 



THE PURSUIT 


153 


suit, they considered that to capture the escaping 
one would not be a very difficult matter. But they 
reckoned without their host, for the horse driven by 
Moore suddenly developed great speed, and the 
discomfited officers saw the buggy growing smaller 
in the distance. 

The Captain of the guard was a determined, reso¬ 
lute man. He had been in both the detective and 
police service for years, and the thought of this 
daring man escaping him aroused his determined 
spirit. He made up his mind that Moore should 
be recaptured if it was necessary to pursue him a 
week in order to do so. He knew that the country 
into which the mail robber was going was a wild, 
wooded section, and that the horse would certainly 
wear out soon, being driven at such a rapid pace; 
so, arranging his plans, he set about recapturing 
the prisoner in the manner he thought best. His 
plan was as follows: 

The road they were proceeding along continued 
straight as an arrow for ten miles, and then branched 
off in two directions, one going to the northwest, 
the other to the south. It was the intention of 
the captain to continue along until the diverging 
roads were reached, and then to send two men in 
one direction, while he, with one man, took the 
other. He felt assured that he would in this man¬ 
ner certainly prove successful, and so he spoke to 
his men, telling them what he proposed doing, and 
urged the horse along at a faster pace, followed by 
the others. 

The buggy was by this time out of sight. A 


154 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


strip of woodland extended along one side of the 
road for some miles, and the vehicle was hidden in 
the shade of the dense trees. 

There was not the slightest feeling of doubt in 
the mind of the worthy captain but what he would 
recapture John Moore. How could he possibly 
escape? The bare idea of such a thing was ridicu¬ 
lous, and so, with a complacent feeling, he urged 
his horse'along toward the forest, which was now 
not far distant. Soon they galloped into the midst 
of it. Suddenly the keen eye of the officer 
detected the abandoned buggy. With a cry of 
satisfaction, he put spurs to his horse, and, followed 
by his men, who had also seen the wreck, he was 
soon up to it. 

“ Horse dead,” he muttered, as, after dismount¬ 
ing, he approached the noble beast. 

“ Then they must have taken to the woods,” 
remarked one of the guards. 

“They — who?” curtly demanded the captain. 

“ There was only one of them.” 

“ I beg pardon, captain,” respectfully replied the 
man; “ but I saw two of them when I threw open 
the prison gates.” 

" Urn! I did not know that,” grunted the cap¬ 
tain. 

He stood for some time gazing at the horse. 
He was trembling, trying to decide upon the best 
plan to pursue, under the circumstances. 

“ Taken to the woods,” he muttered. 

“ That’s about the size of it, Cap’n,” said one of 
the men. 


THE PURSUIT I 5 5 

" Then, we’ll go into the woods after ’em,” growled 
the chief officer. 

The man who had first spoken now came for¬ 
ward. 

“ Beg pardon, Cap., but don’t you think you’d 
dojistas well by waitin’ till mornin’ before goin’ 
into the woods. We can’t take our horses with us, 
and it’s mighty hard pushin’ through the bushes at 
night. They can’t git far away, that’s sure, and 
by daylight we kin do much better.” 

The superior officer looked up at the sky, per¬ 
haps for inspiration. Finally he said, in his curt 
tones : 

“ Don’t know but what you’re right, Ike. We 
can make a bed of our horses’ blankets, and, with 
the saddles for pillows, rest easy. Then we’ll be 
fresh in the morning, and can push ’em hard. Yes, 
we’ll wait till morning.” 

With a few words he gave his men orders to 
prepare for the night, and soon the band of pur¬ 
suers were sleeping as only tired men can sleep. 

About the same time that Alice Moore opened 
her eyes and looked up in her husband’s face, the 
captain of the guard awoke. Springing to his feet, 
he aroused his sleeping men. They arose to their 
feet, and soon had their horses saddled; although 
they knew they could not use them, still, force of 
habit ruled them in this action. 

They were without food, but, being all slaves to 
tobacco, they each took a chew of the weed, to 
stay their stomachs until such a time when some¬ 
thing more substantial was found. The horses 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


I5<5 

were more fortunate, they could eat grass, and 
there was a sufficiency of it near. In a few 
moments each of the pursuing officers was ready, 
and, without a word, followed their leader into the 
forest. 

As they left the road, faintly to their ears came 
the sound of a gun. 

The captain stopped. 

“ Either our game, or some one else is shooting 
in the woods,” he muttered. 

" Hardly likely to be any one else. How in the 
devil did Moore get a gun, though.” 

“ Mebbe his partner had it,” suggested Ike. 

“ Guess you’re right Ike,” muttered the leader. 
“ We’ll just push our way in the direction from 
which that shot was fired, and I guess we’ll find 
’em. Come on.” 

As rapidly as possible the men forced their way 
along. It was hard work, but they did not com¬ 
plain. The hunter for wild game never complains 
at the obstacles in his path. These men were 
hunting their game. Ruthless hunters, as pitiless 
as he who takes the life of rabbit or partridge. 
Suddenly Ike, who was slightly in advance, 
stopped. 

“ By gosh, there they are,” he cried. He had 
discovered the fugitives asleep. 

“ And they’re asleep,” muttered the captain, with 
a dry chuckle. “ We’ll have no trouble in bagging 
’em.” 

At that moment a rabbit sprang through the 
woods. The officer had disturbed it. With its 


THE PURSUIT 


157 


peculiar hop step, it ran directly toward the sleep¬ 
ing ones, and ran over the form of Alice. It was 
that which caused her to scream. Then she saw 
the officer, and aroused her husband. 

“ Damn that rabbit,” growled the captain. “ We 
might have collared ’em without any fuss if it hadn’t 
been for that infernal animal.” 

“ We’ll git ’em anyhow, captain,” responded Ike. 

“ Of course we will,” growled the captain. 

Then he ordered Moore to surrender, with the 
result which has already been recorded. 

With wrathful feelings he saw the fugitives dis¬ 
appear into the woods, but with determination he 
encouraged his men, and pushed on after them. 
The day passed by. The officers, hungry and 
weary, were getting disgusted, when suddenly one 
of them uttered a cry of astonishment: 

“ By gosh, Cap’n, we’re back on the road,” he 
said. 

The captain looked around him. 

“ I believe you’re right,” he said, a puzzled ex¬ 
pression on his face. “ But, if we’re here, they 
can’t be far off. We’ve followed them straight 
away, and they must be here somewhere.” 

“ Yes, but where, Cap’n? ” 

The question came from Ike. 

The leader turned upon him with a curse. 
“ Damn your impudence! How in h—1 do you 
suppose I know?” shouted the exasperated captain. 

The men smiled broadly. They were hungry 
and tired, but they felt amused at the anger of their 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


*5$ 

captain. That worthy was deep in thought. Sud¬ 
denly he looked up. 

" We must have something to eat,” he said 
finally, “ and rest for a while. By God, I’ll pay 
John Moore for this trouble. We’ll rest awhile, 
and then hunt some grub.” 

The men were not averse to this proposition, 
and, after resting for thirty minutes, began the 
search for food. They were not very successful. 
They managed to bring down a few birds, which, as 
night came, began to flock to their perches in the 
trees. One of them killed a squirrel, and so they 
partially satisfied their hunger. 

They had just finished their meal, and were pre¬ 
paring to return to the spot where they had left 
their horses, when the quick ear of the captain 
detected the sound of approaching carriage wheels. 
By the sound, the vehicle was being propelled at a 
terrible rate of speed. 

“ Somebody drivin’ like h—1,” remarked Ike. 

As night had now fallen, it was impossible to tell 
much about the driver of this vehicle until it was 
close upon them. Then, with a shout, the captain 
sprang into the road and endeavored to stop the 
horse. In the dim light, he recognized the pale, 
determined face of the man he was seeking — John 
Moore. 


HOW IT ENDED 


*59 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

HOW IT ENDED. 

Our readers may feel some astonishment at the 
fact of the escaping man being in possession of a 
horse and buggy. They may feel a natural curiosity, 
as it were. 

We will explain. 

Upon leaving the officers in the woods, a wild 
idea took possession of Moore’s brain. If he could 
only manage to make a detour and make the road 
where had left it, he felt sure that he would find 
the horses of his pursuers, and then, mounted upon 
one, his wife upon another, they could easily make 
good the escape they had been working so hard to 
secure. He told his thoughts to Alice, who clapped 
her white hands with joy. Then she told him that, 
in the abandoned buggy, hidden under the seat, 
were some further disguises which she had provided. 
If they could only make the buggy, they would be 
all right. Buoyed up with the hope, they struggled 
along all through the long day. At nightfall, for¬ 
tune, fate or Providence led their feet to the spot 
they desired to make. Moore gave utterance to a 
cry of joy when he saw the horses where the officers 
had left them. As he was preparing to mount one 
of them, Alice spoke. 

“ Why not harness one of the horses to the 


i6o 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


buggy?” she suggested. “ We can both get along 
faster in that way.” 

“You are a great schemer,” cried Moore, and 
set about carrying out his wife’s suggestion. It was 
a laborious task to remove the harness from the 
dead horse, but was accomplished at last. Soon 
they were seated, and riding toward liberty. Sud¬ 
denly Alice espied the fire kindled by the officers, 
to cook their scanty supper. In the flickeringlight 
they could discern the hated uniforms of the men, 
from whom they had been flying for nearly twenty- 
four hours. 

“ We are lost,” cried Alice. 

“No,” replied Moore, grimly. “They are un¬ 
mounted. We can dash through them at great 
speed, and distance them easily.” 

“ But their horses are not far away. ” 

“ The chances are that they don’t know that. At 
any rate, by the time they reach their animals, we 
will be far enough away from them.” 

So saying, he touched up the horse with the 
whip, and the animal sprang forward. At a terrific 
pace they passed through the midst of the guards. 
The captain tried to stop them, as before stated, 
but was unsuccessful. On they flew toward a strip 
of woodland which was before them (they had left 
the first woods behind them); they would surely 
escape. 

As the buggy became lost to sight, the captain 
turned to his men : 

“We can’t be far from the horses,” he cried. 


HOW IT ENDED 


161 


“ The direction which Moore has taken will bring 

him to-” mentioning a small town near. 

“ We can surely recapture him, as he will have no 
mercy on his horse, and it will get knocked outlike 
the other. Come, we will return to our horses. 
One thing, we know where he. is now, and that is 
some satisfaction.” 

With eager haste the officers hurried to the spot 
where they had left their horses. On the way the 
captain said, as if to himself: 

“ I wonder where in the devil Moore got his 
rig ! ” Arriving at the spot, he found out, and loud 
were his curses when he found one of his own 
horses gone. 

“ By God ! he shall pay for this,” he cried, over 
and over. “ I’ll show him when I catch him.” 

The men mounted ; one of them, whose horse 
had been taken, left with the buggy. Then the 
officers turned to engage in that pursuit which had 
proven productive of such little results during the 
day. 

“ No use wearing our horses out,” said the cap¬ 
tain. “ He’ll wear out one of ’em fast enough. 
Just follow him, and take it easy. We’re sure to 
catch him. He can’t get away.” 

The officers thought differently, some of them, 
but they made no reply. It was their place to 
obey, and not to contradict their captain, and they 
knew their place. 

They left the first stretch of woodland behind 
them, and galloped along toward the second strip, 



THE MAIL ROBBER 


162 

where they had seen the buggy, drawn by one of 
their own horses, and driven by a desperate man, 
disappear a half-hour before. 

If the pursuing officers could have but known 
what was taking place in the dense shadow of the 
trees, they would have opened their eyes in aston¬ 
ishment, but they did not know, nor had they any 
suspicion, and so they rode along at a moderately 
rapid pace, which they proposed to keep up until 
daylight. As they drew near the strip of woods, 
an old ramble shackel of a buggy, drawn by a slow- 
going and evidently superannuated horse, slowly 
approached them. The creaking of the wheels, 
showing a want of oil or grease, could be distinctly 
heard, and the husky, cracked voice of the driver 
of this strange team was carried to the ear of the 
officers upon the breeze. 

In a few moments they were beside the ancient 
turn-out. The captain saw that the vehicle car¬ 
ried two people — a venerable old man and a boy. 
The old man was clad in a suit of antique manu¬ 
facture, wore a long, gray beard and spectacles, 
and chirruped to his aged horse in the husky, 
cracked voice they had heard before. The boy 
was probably about twelve years of age. He sat 
on the side farthest from the officers, and was 
whistling unconcernedly as the team drove into the 
band of guards. 

“ Hello, pop I” called out the captain, “ where you 
from? ” 

“ Wisheming,” answered the old man; “ goin’ 
inter Cheyenne. How far might it be, stranger?” 


HOW IT ENDED 163 

“ Near ten miles,” replied the captain; " you’ll 
never get there with that horse.” 

“ We’ll try, stranger,” and the aged driver touched 
up his steed. 

“ Wait a minute, pop,” cried the captain. “ I 
want to ask you a question or two.” 

“ Go ahead. I’ll try and answer ’em,” replied 

<(__ n 

pop. 

“ Did you pass a man driving a horse attached 
to a buggy, and goinglike the devil? ” 

“ Yaas, strawnger, I passed a horse an’ buggy, 
or, rather, they passed me, ’bout three miles back.” 

“What road were they on?” demanded the 
officer. 

“ Why, on the Wisheming road, of course,” 
answered the old fellow. 

“ Three miles further on, you say? ” 

“ Yaas. ” 

“ Thank you. Good luck to you,” and they gal¬ 
oped away. 

No sooner had they disappeared from sight than 
. the old man sprang from the buggy with amazing 
alacrity, considering his apparent age. Certain 
attachments which had been arranged to make the 
wheels small were removed. Some tattered cloths, 
which had been artistically draped about the car¬ 
riage, were removed. The horse (which had been 
doctored also) was released from numerous straps 
and bandages, and then, with a glad cry, the man 
sprang into the carriage. 

“ We are saved ! ” he murmured, applying the 
whip to the horse, which sprang forward as if im- 


THE MAIL ROBBER 


164 

bued with new life. " And all through you, dar¬ 
ling,” he added, turning to the supposed boy, 
whom our readers have, no doubt, recognized as 
Alice Moore. 

“ It was a God-sent inspiration,” she replied. 
“ It came to me in the night. I but carried out 
what Heaven decreed. You went wrong once ; 
the divine Ruler of all saw that, in your heart, 
there was a feeling of repentance for your sin, and 
so determined to help you, and revealed to me the 
means. But we are not out of danger yet. We 
must hasten to the railway station, and, if we are 
not discovered, in twelve hours’ time we never will 
be.” 

The reader can understand what had taken place 
in the woods — the disguise of the horse and buggy, 
and also of the escaping man. It was a desperate 
step to undertake, but its very daring made it suc¬ 
cessful, and so John J. Moore made his escape. 

The railroad was reached, tickets were purchased, 
and the two took their seats in the train unsus¬ 
pected, without suspicion, and, while the guards 
and officers of the penitentiary and city were scour¬ 
ing the country, and moving almost heaven and 
earth to unearth the fugitive, he, seated by the 
side of the woman who loved him, and whose strat¬ 
agem had saved him, was being swiftly whirled to¬ 
ward sweet liberty. 

It is, perhaps, unnecessary to state that the cap¬ 
tain of the guard found his scheme productive of 
no benefit. He hunted high and low for the mail 
robber, but gave up the chase at last, greatly sur- 


HOW IT ENDED 165 

prised, much discomfitecj, secretly wondering what 
had become of the daring man. 

Never, to this day, has the idea occurred to him 
that the old man in the buggy was the man he 
wanted. There was nothing in the appearance of 
that individual to give him any such idea. 

John Moore was never recaptured, and never 
heard of in that section of the country after that. 

Some of our readers may be anxious to know 
what became of him and his loving wife, and so, 
for their benefit, we will disclose the secret of his 
hiding-place. 

Come with us to the city of Philadelphia, Pa. 
We will take a car which runs from the Pennsyl¬ 
vania Railroad depot down Market street. Ah, 
here we are at Tenth street. 

Get off the car, and walk down toward Chestnut 
street, and just three doors from the corner you 
will see a large double store which bears upon its 
windows the peculiar sign, the only one of its kind 
in the city: 

“ John /. Hutchings & Wife, Jewelry and 
Millinery and there they live happy, respected, 
securely protected by the name of the old man 
whose weakness for drink caused his death, and 
made John J. Moore a mail robber ! 


THE END. 


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